Holidays always throw me out of synch. I never know what day it is. Mind you, my memory is like a Swiss cheese at the best of times, appropriate as I’ve only recently returned from the land of fondue and the cuckoo clock.I don’t kid myself that anyone has missed me. By this point you’re probably tired of reading me ramble on about Meg, Michelle and classic screwball comedies. Yet, there’s something to be said for wanting to share those things you love.The magical aura of the movies of the 1930’s and 40’s really can’t be captured and bottled up; although watching Michelle and Meg Ryan conjuring up their screwball spell in the 1990s, was the closest thing I’ll ever get to being there.It’s no secret I always wanted to see those two share a screen. Pfeiffer had the dry-humored poise, Meg had the dizzy energy; together they would have been unstoppable. A Hepburn and Lombard for the Clueless generation. Michelle’s talent for the withering one-liner complimenting Ryan’s homespun put-downs.Because of her cutesy, blonde, cat-that-got-the-cream image, Meg was often underestimated, but films like Addicted to Love put her right where she needed to be. Pfeiffer had been working her way to One Fine Day her whole career.These throwbacks to the screwballs of the 1930s really are the best medicine for those post-holiday blues. They took something from a simpler time and transplanted it in an entirely new time and place. The result? Little moments. A look, a laugh, a smile. Those tiny pieces of time, never to be forgotten.