"You can talk just like me."

"If that's what you want to do."

Up until this evening, the closest reflection of myself that I'd seen on television was either this woman or this woman, which isn't saying much at all considering I've never shown an aptitude for surgery, nor have I had a really good manicure. However, these women are brown, which I suppose was enough. It's funny, then, that I should find myself totally relating to a couple of willowy white women who aren't even Canadian.

Granted, I'm not a sports writer -- and probably never will be -- but the way that this PJ girl approaches her relationships is the way I approach my relationships, or at least the way I did when I was growing up, had mostly male friends and drank beer way more often than I do now. (On occasion, I still eat as recklessly as any deep dish-loving Chicagoan. Now if I could just learn to play poker, I'd be SBP's BFF in no time!)

Seeing PJ cautiously flirt with a new love interest in an episode I watched a few days ago, I was reminded of my own sometimes exciting, overwhelmingly tentative and thankfully in-the-past single life. Of course, I was also reminded why I love my friends so much, to this day -- moreso than I was ever reminded when I used to watch a program that was actually called Friends.

However, I'm sure a lot of women can relate to PJ as well as I do (especially this one and this one). Furthermore, though I may draw many parallels between the two of us, PJ is no Lorelai Gilmore, who is currently experiencing a slightly condensed and considerably more dramatic version of the year that followed my wedding day. Witnessing tonight's episode was kind of like reliving a chapter of my life, except for the part where I have obscenely wealthy parents and end up marrying the father of my teenage daughter. (Wait, is Rory even a teenager anymore? I have missed a lot of episodes of this show.) It should also be noted that I wasn't engaged to the town curmudgeon prior to running off with my high school sweetheart. I did elope, though -- even if PF and I didn't actually leave town to get married -- and this, as in the Gilmore-Hayden soap opera, resulted in a parent with understandably hurt feelings who then attempted to stage a full-blown reenactment of the wedding complete with ensuing formalities even though ALL WE AGREED TO WAS A PARTY, DAMMIT!

When I casually flipped the channel during a My Boys break and stumbled on the Stars Hollow scene, my jaw dropped. If PF hadn't left for work five minutes earlier, I would have made him watch it with me, even though he can't stand Gilmore Girls. It wasn't exactly a brainulation moment, but I think a "Way to go, brain" would have been in order regardless.

TRACK LISTING: Talking Heads, "Thank You for Sending Me an Angel"