Sunday, September 25, 2011

My stuffed animals learned how to kiss early.

After I wrote my blog yesterday and attached the picture of Darth Vader, it started me down memory lane.  Ah yes, I remember it well.  My first big movie crush was Luke Skywalker.

I don't remember what grade I was in, perhaps third or fourth, when the original Star Wars movie came out with Mark Hamill.  I was overwhelmed with my feelings for him.  His blonde hair, blue eyes, boyish good looks, far be it for me to know that he was actually over 40 years old when he made his first Star Wars episode.  I guess it pays to look young in Hollywood

When other children fought their parents to stay up and watch TV at night, I was begging for bed right after bath time.  I had a date with my handsome Luke.  I would lie awake hours scripting each scene meticulously in my mind.  The color of my hair, the details of my dress, the way we would meet, the look on his face when his eyes first encountered mine..magic!  Oh my, if a ten year old knew how to write soft porn without knowing anything about it, I would have had a contract with HBO.  And, of course, just when I reached that moment of our first kiss...I fell asleep.  Talk about a deal breaker!  I'd have to re-script the entire episode for the next night.  To this day, I wonder if my Mom ever thought something was seriously wrong with me.  It wouldn't have been a shock if she came into my room and felt my forehead a couple of times during the night or consulted her Dr. Spock book for childhood maladies.

Yes, I was a serious romantic in my youth and my poor stuffed animals suffered most for it.  I practiced my kissing techniques on my teddy bears but my stuffed Snoopy was special.  He learned first hand what French kissing was all about, or at least what I thought it was all about.  Yuck, they were wet and drooly by the next morning.  They probably smelled nasty too because at ten, really - did anyone truly floss their teeth?  To this day, I will never, ever accept or donate stuffed animals remembering what I did with mine.  Gruesome!  Anyway, I digress...I was not going into my junior high years naive about how to return kisses especially if someone as good looking as Luke Skywalker was going to plant big wet goobers on me.  I was going to know what I was doing.  Wrong, so wrong.  Another blog - another day.  (See how I am?  I keep you on the edge of your seat because you know there's another horrific story to follow somewhere down the road.  And if you're that poor fellow who gave me my first kiss - or thought you did - you'll just have to keep reading my blogs won't you?  I'm such a terrific brat!)

I'm still a terrible romantic.  I believe I've mentioned my penchant once for Mike Rowe from the TV series, Dirty Jobs.   And, I hate to admit this because after all, I've been told that I'm a Goddess, but yes I am human - so sometimes I still daydream about other faces some I know, some I don't, or on really good days multiple firemen (oops, that was a secret).  However, at the end of the day, when it all boils down to it, I will always roll over and love the face beside mine.  This face happens to be the same wonderful face I've been looking at for over sixteen years.  The face of the boy I met when I was sixteen, the young man I married when I was twenty-nine, the middle-aged guy who put up with my horrible mid-life crisis just last week, and eventually the face of an old man loving me twenty years from now...his blonde hair, his blue eyes, his boyish good looks, my Luke Skywalker - my first real life crush...Eric Potts.




    

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