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Greta gave me the world’s greatest gift. Of all time. Of the universe of life.
She designed it – one for me, one for her. Sorry, ladies – this is not available in stores.
How did I ever manage to wrangle such amazingly rad friends?
Good: A baby.
Better: A baby chipmunk.
Best: A baby chipmunk singing “Blue Moon.”
Good: A tree.
Better: A tree made into paper.
Best: A tree made into paper made into an origami tree.
Good: Jim Halpert.
Better: Jim Halpert in my living room.
Best: Jim Halpert in my living room…
Something has happened. Something big. I expected that this might occur in these months of meeting tons of new people – and whaddayaknow – it did. I have developed an enormous, impossible crush.
We were actually introduced a couple of years ago, but fell out of contact for the past year or so. Since I left on The Big Trip, he and I reconnected… and the sparks flew. At least on my end. He isn’t actually aware that we’re meant to be together.
My first-ever crush was Captain Von Trapp. Strong and stoic and incredibly handsome, my 6-year old self dreamed of marrying him someday. But eventually, I decided he was too old for me, and moved on to Elijah Wood. ‘Lij (as his friends called him, according to Big Bop magazine) was the first boy to grace my bedroom wall via a centerfold poster from a teen magazine, but after my siblings made fun of me, his poster moved to the wall in the back of my closet where I could meet his piercing blue eyes whenever I pulled a sweater from the hanger.
Then, along came Devon Sawa. This blonde heartthrob was enough to make Christina Ricci stop taping her boobs in “Now and Then,” and believe me, if I had had any chest to speak of when I was 12 years old, I would have done the same. He and Brad Renfro vied for the title of “best bad boy” for a couple of years – although Brad is the one who actually eventually earned himself a criminal record.
Christian Bale rocked my world as Jack Kelly in “Newsies,” and later as Laurie in “Little Women.” He… kind of still rocks my world.
Along with Joey Potter, I vacillated between Dawson and Pacey. Boy next door? Or hottie from troubled background and unstable family – rough around the edges, with a tendency to drink and fight too much, but probably a good kisser? Yeah. Definitely Pacey.
N’SYNC hit the scene the summer that I turned 16, and although I was probably too old for the mania, I joined right in. I couldn’t help it. JC Chasez? Justin Timberlake? Too hot for the Disney Channel. I even had a thing for Lance before… well, you know. I saw them live at Mile High Stadium in Denver, and I don’t know that I have ever screamed so loud. Anyone who thinks of teenage girls as weak and ineffective have obviously never seen them in the vicinity of the band for which Sisqo was the opening act.
Many have come and gone, and a small number of bizarre man-crushes will continue for all perpetuity (John Cusack, Dennis Quaid, and Mark Harmon, to name a few). But the one guy who surpasses them all? Who is more crush-worthy than any guitar-playing, poetry-writing, medicine-practicing, fire-fighting, beer-slinging, mountaineering, football-playing buffoon that I have pined after in real life?
Dear Lord, please incarnate Jim Halpert, the world’s most charming man, into real life. And then allow us to run into each other at a gas station when I get to California tonight. I’ll take care of the rest. Amen.