Crushes On Really Inappropriate Men

As humans, we have a tendency to want what we can't have, aspire for the unattainable. When you daydream about Joe Jonas or Ed Westwick or George Clooney or whoever floats your sailboat, you don't actually believe they're going to come sweep you off your feet in your sleepy town, armed with flowers and chocolates. But it's nice to know that it's remotely possible-- they're alive, and, well, they're human.

Growing up, I had crushes on the usual suspects (JTT was popular in my household, as was the youngest Hanson brother). But I also went for a few guys who were a little sketchier-- as in, animated.

The first that I can remember is Dale, of "Ch-ch-ch-chip 'n Dale, Rescue Rangers" fame. Even as a little kid I had a strong preference for one chipmunk over the other. Dale was the laid-back, devil-may-care, mischievous one with the red nose. With him around, I could never go for the no-nonsense and responsible Chip. No contest. So yeah, Dale held a special place in my heart, and we had a standing date for years-- every afternoon on the Disney Channel.

Later on in childhood, a boy named Arnold caught my eye. He was a little less my type, except for the wild hair, but he reminded me of a boy I'd had a real life crush on in 5th grade. Our relationship was on-and-off, whenever I caught an episode of Hey Arnold! on Nickelodeon.

I think most girls my age had a crush on Dmitri from Anastasia. I know all us girls who would watch it in college did. And who wouldn't? He was dreamy, and voiced by adorable John Cusack to boot. Yeah, there's that abnormally large bump in his nose that's pretty distracting in profile, but every guy has flaws, even cartoon guys. And okay, he's a con man, but with a heart of gold! Watching him fall in love with Anya is just cute and romantic enough to make you forget about all the historical inaccuracies in the world.

And then there's the one you always come back to. For me, it's not even a question-- it's Robin Hood. He may be a fox, but he's one foxy fox. That accent! Those... archery skills! That do-gooder-bending-the-rules moral code! Maid Marion is one lucky lady. She gets the fox of my dreams.

So what do you think; have I got a chance with any of these bachelors? Honestly, it seems like I'd have the best luck with Dale, since Helga, Anya and Marion would probably be none too pleased at me going after their men. And you know, I think I'd make a good Rescue Ranger. It's always good for a girl to have options.

Humility

Yesterday I promised a high school journal excerpt years from now, when I've finally gotten over my embarrassment. Well, packing today, I found my middle school journals, and just couldn't wait. Here's a little something for you, moderately edited (because they're my damn journals and I can edit them if I want to). Also, names have been changed because who knows how many of you characters secretly went to my middle school:

June 11, 1998
"Why is life so complicated? It is, really. One day you like one guy, the next day you like another. What's with that? 'Cause yesterday, I only liked Josh, but now I like Anthony. But only now I like them both! I have more of a chance with Anthony, but Lindsay likes him and Josh's SO FINE! But Anthony is really cute and really nice but Josh's SO FUNNY but Anthony's funny and from Texas! We have so much in common! But I'm so much like Josh but I don't know Anthony too well so maybe I'm a lot like him, too. How the hell am I supposed to decide? Oh, yeah, I don't have to. School ends tomorrow. Nothing more. Who am I kidding? Neither of them are gonna ask me out tomorrow. Or even really talk to me. So who cares? I can't do anything about it. I won't ask either of them out. OR even "really talk to them." All I wanna do is go out with ONE of them! And I can't even decide who. 'Cause they're both so cool. And cute. And sweet. And... oh, forget it. It doesn't really matter anymore. Really. It doesn't."

Aaaand scene. So what've we gleaned about 12-year-old Amy from this, class? I made liberal use of the underline, that's for sure. Keep in mind, each of these boys were classmates I'd barely spoken five sentences to over the course of 7th grade. But really, when you get past that and the obvious junior-high descriptors ("so fine!"), is my thought process about boys really all that different at 23? Eh, it doesn't really matter. Really. It doesn't.

P.S. fellow bloggers, feel free to take this as a call to arms and post your own horrifyingly embarrassing diary entries. I won't say it's therapeutic, but it's certainly interesting.