Happiness is being able to see your charming ex-boyfriend (i.e., the one who got away) and his bubbly blonde new girlfriend and not attempting to run out the door before they make eye contact.
I have not yet reached that stage, as clearly demonstrated by the last hour of my life.
Throw in the fact that I have a cold, wore no makeup, and dropped my iced coffee on my daughter in startling reaction to his sudden appearance and you have the perfect awkward chick flick moment.
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