How I got onto this train of thought I'll never know (especially when I'm supposed to writing notes for a Zen album, not ruminating on my weirdo past), but anyway, here it is: a list of some of the crushes I've had over the years.
This is in NO way a conclusive list; in fact, I'm sure I'm leaving out some of the more permeating imaginary romances I've indulged in over the years.
By the way, as a teenager, I also spent time wondering who would have a crush on me if I were famous. *Gives head a shake*
- Mighty Mouse. I fell off a chair declaring my love for this rodent.
- Randolph Mantooth. I guess I had a thing for tv heroes.
- Pa Ingalls. Or maybe I just wanted to be Laura Ingalls. Either way, I think now that he would have made a really good husband. Not that I wanted to marry my father. I just mean that he was pretty progressive for a 19th century farmer, and he had good pecs.
- Almanzo Wilder. Pure crush. I definitely wanted to be Laura by this point. Oh, Manly. Smack my ass and call me Beth.
- John Taylor. He was my Duran Duran crush. I’m pretty sure it was always either Simon or John, right? My sister liked Simon, so I had to pick John. Even a youngen', I knew that if you picked Nick Rhodes, you were just being pretentious.
- River Phoenix. My first real true love. I spent a lot of time talking to the posters plastering my walls. He got me through my first unrequited real-life crush, pimples, stupid fights with my smother – he helped me navigate the angst of the tween years so that I could smoothly fulfill my destiny as a full-blown, obnoxious teenager. Too bad he never fulfilled his own destiny. RIP, Rio. (And p.s. – I’ll forget about A Night in the Life of Jimmy Reardon if you’ll forget about the stirrup pants and bedazzled sweatshirts you saw me put on every day.)
- Bjork. Ok, I’m jumping ahead a few years here, but save for a few months pondering Johnny Depp’s broodiness or Arlo Guthrie’s curls circa 1970, Bjork was next. I could not get over the magical pixie and her adorable squished up little face. I was tiny too, and wondered if I could pull off an Icelandic fairy look. I tried, I did. I twisted my hair up into little Bjorkies (as I still call them) and wore crazy quilted skirts and tiny halter tops and generally found my niche somewhere between neo-bohemian and stone-cold crazy fox (indulge me). Bjork helped me break down many boundaries, and inspired me to investigate a world just beyond my comfort zone; one full of artistic, creative and corporeal pleasures.
- Darcy Tucker. I am a Canadian girl after all. And I likes 'em feisty. Plus, he's a dad, so, hawt.
- The OC in general, and Adam Brody in particular. This was during pregnancy. I discovered the OC while I was pregnant with Bee, and it penetrated my psyche, I suppose. True, I went back and forth between Ryan and Seth, but in the end – and in my CRAZY pregnancy sex dreams – humour beat out fists. I am a pacifist, and I do have a weak spot for dark curly hair. If you want to know how totally I was into the OC while I was pregnant, you have only to ask me what name I blurted out when we decided that our first born daughter did not fit the name we had picked for her. Sexy Adam Brody infiltrated my second pregnancy as well, but as far as usurping my husband as the object of my desires, I think I handled it with more sensitivity the second time around.
- Liberte Dulce de Leche yogurt. This, my friends is the real deal. It’s love.
So, who you been crushin on?