11 Fictional Women I Have Crushed on at One Point in My Life:

…Since I’m sure that this in no way makes me appear weird or sad or pathetic, and besides, why not air out some dirty laundry? That’s what the internet is for, right?? The list caps at 11 because it’s a nice palindromic number and because it’s less creepy than going on and on about all the imaginary women from TV, movies, or books I would marry.

Honorable Mentions:

Britta Perry/Annie Edison- Because the two come in a package deal.

Casey Klein- Because I am a hip enough to have watched Party Down. And because nobody else did.

Kim Pine- Because WE ARE SEX BOB-OMB! ONE TWO THREE FOUR!

Kitty Pryde- Because despite numerous portrayals in comics, movies, and TV, I have yet to come across a version I don’t like.

Celine from Before Sunrise, Amelie from Amelie, Anna from Beginners, or any other French girl in movies- Because they are French girls in movies.

Robin Scherbatsky- Because before HIMYM messed her up in season 4, there was Robin, and then there was every other imaginary woman on Earth.

Dianna Agron- Because no way someone so perfect can be a real life person, right?

And now:

11. Franny Glass- “Let’s just try to have a marvelous time this weekend. I mean not try to analyze everything to death for once, if possible. Especially me. I love you.” I could totally love her to pieces, distraction, etc.

10. Sloane Peterson- My future wife will also be my accomplice when I decide to take a day off. She will assist in creating phony phone services to fool my principal and by pretending to be different people when nosy waiters don’t believe I am the Sausage King of Chicago. She will also make out with me in front of paintings, dance with me on parade floats, and deal with my best friend when he spazzes out after destroying his father’s priceless car. Chicka chicka.

9. Julie “The Cat” Gaffney- One of the best goalies of her generation, yet her coach refuses to play her a single minute of the Goodwill Games until out of the blue, he decides to stick her in goal during the shootout of the final game, completely cold, to face the best player in the tournament with the gold medal at stake. And then she does her job. Like a boss.

8. Kimberly Hart- Not only was she a teenaged super-hero who piloted a giant flying pterodactyl robot, she was an Olympic level gymnast. She was also incredibly well-rounded and organized or participated in pretty much every school event or activity. She gets points taken away for being a Socal girl through and through, though. And also for going for Tommy instead of the clearly superior Jason.

7. Alex Mack- My reasoning is easy to follow here. Larissa Oleynik was my first celebrity crush. Alex Mack wears a hat. Bianca Stratford doesn’t wear a hat. Alex Mack wins.

6. Joan Holloway- It’s a credit to Mad Men‘s writing that I feel like I know her better than I know some of my friends. It’s a credit to Joan Holloway that in a world of men, she shines brighter than any of them not because she is a woman, but because she is stronger, more confident, and more driven than anybody else working at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. It’s a shock when you see her vulnerable, and it makes your heart ache for her. She’s the best kind of bombshell- her incredibly and undeniably magnetic charisma draws you in before she blows you up. What’s not to like?

5. Liz Bennett- Simply put, she inspired a man to change for her. She is headstrong, witty, impulsive, and outspoken in the best ways possible. And boy do I like spitfires. Especially ones that are Keira Knightly in the movie adaptation.

4. Joey Potter- People forget this since she’s become some manic android woman, but back in the day everybody loved Katie Holmes. Sure, Joey was a drama magnet, but she was desirable enough for me to admit I watched Dawson’s Creek. She was also incredibly intelligent and could banter with the best of them, not to mention she was crazy beautiful (especially because she didn’t know it). Plus, she knew a whole bunch of big words. Nothing hotter than having a verbal arsenal at one’s disposal.

3. Jordan Baker- Probably my all-time literary character crush and probably the whole reason I came up with this list as I was reading The Great Gatsby for the umpteenth time. Waaaay sexier than Daisy. Also much more alluring and sultry with just the right amount of mysterious. Unlike Daisy, she could give as good as she got from the boys. And she’s an athlete (even though she cheats… and even though it’s golf). But when the new Gatsby movie comes out at the end of the year, I want everyone to remember that I was into Jordan Baker before it was cool.

2. Holly Golightly- Flighty and flimsy, but in the absolute best way possible. Who wouldn’t want to be the one to center her? I’m pretty sure Capote created her specifically so that every man on earth would fall in love with her for a few seconds. That said, this ranking is for movie Holly, not book Holly. Movie Holly has the distinct advantages of possessing guitar skills, of getting her happy ending, and of being Audrey Hepburn.

1. Buffy Summers- Everything I liked about all the girls above, plus equal parts baddest chick on the planet and vulnerable dorky girl just trying to fit in. Pretty much the total package. Dynamite.

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Now playing: Teenage Fanclub – The Concept

This brightened up my day.

(from Postsecret)

…not that I was having a bad one in the first place.

I like that there are means for good days to get better.

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Now playing: Thom Yorke – Black Swan
via FoxyTunes

It’s that time of year again.

“At any rate, let us love for a while… you and me. That’s a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion.”

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

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Now playing: Relient K – Sleigh Ride
via FoxyTunes

7/6/10

“Daydream delusion
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusion angel
I am a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don’t want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we’re going
Launched in life
Like branches in the river
Flowing downstream
Caught in the current
I’ll carry you
You’ll carry me
That’s how it could be
Don’t you know me?
Don’t you know me by now?”

-Before Sunrise

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Now playing: Nat King Cole – Darling, Je Vous Aime Beaucoup
via FoxyTunes

Jigsaw.

She was raised to believe that life was a series of first impressions. That every relationship, every opportunity hinged on her ability to smile brightly and be not just polite, but dazzling. That if she wasn’t constantly at her best, she would be exposed as an ugly orange pumpkin simply masquerading as the princess and she would never land her Prince Charming (she never could get her fairy tale analogies quite right, either).

He was weaned on role models (Mr. Rochester, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Gatsby) who were bad for him, and not just because they were fictional. They show him how to flaunt his flaws like a shield to protect the earnest heart he wore on his sleeve, like he was some sort of knight or something, even though he never bought into the concept of kings and maidens (like many other romances, it was too fantastic for his taste).

She was taught how to be a proper lady while other little girls were being taught how to be children. She was a goddess both in status and in stature, beautiful on the outside and able to fake it well enough on the inside. She was extraordinary. She had to be.

He was okay with imperfections because he understood his own all too well. After all, he was hindered by an idealistic mind directly opposed to his realistic worldview, not to mention an allergy to conventional romance. If ordinary meant imperfect then ordinary was okay- hell, ordinary was encouraged, embraced. He was no good at playing superhero anyway.

She wanted a prince. She got him instead.

He wanted ordinary. He ended up with the furthest thing from it.

They didn’t fit together.

It was obvious to everyone who observed them from the moment they first locked eyes. They were like two puzzle pieces (of night sky or calm water- those are always the hardest sections to complete) randomly jabbed together by an impatient toddler oblivious to the incorrectness of it all. He would push where she couldn’t take being shoved, she was blind to the holes he needed filled. It was wrong- they were wrong, no matter how similar to each other they appeared to be.

Sure, they could pretend. He could train himself to believe that the way she carried herself and the things she did (ball gowns? masquerade parties? really?) were quirky instead of snobby, charming instead of pretentious. That somehow the way she behaved added to her appeal. She had learned at a young age to feign interest at the most mundane of things (who really cares about soccer, anyway?). To blend in with the proletariat. As if it was okay to be okay with being normal.

He would sit through her afternoon teas, accompany her to art galas and on her shopping excursions, waiting outside dressing rooms while she hemmed and hawed, carrying her bags (in which were stored contents that cost more than his life) like a good soldier while quelling thoughts of mutiny. She would tag along whenever he visited the record store or the coffeehouse or even the used bookstore, all the while resisting the urge to turn up her nose at the sight of him touching things that so many other (dirty disgusting smelly hairy hippie) people had touched before.

He would shoot her a glare once in a while, because it seemed to be the only thing that could stop her foot from eventually entering her mouth (either way it shut her up). She would give him a smack on the shoulder every so often, just to remind him who really wore the pants (and stylish ones, at that). It worked.

They worked.

Everyone knew that it would fall apart eventually, though. Even the two of them knew, because it would, right? Because when it came down to it, at the end of the day, they just didn’t fit together.

Except that they did.

She knew neither of them could tell you when exactly their dynamic shifted, how what they have now (which she wouldn’t trade for the world) came to be. She figured it was somewhere between when her reprimand stopped coming with her fist and started coming with her caress when she realized it- that they were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t fit correctly, but only because they’d been trying to connect themselves together the wrong way.

He liked to say he saw it coming, but to be honest, it surprised him as much as anyone when they woke up one morning like… this. Working. Fitting. It was only looking back to somewhere between when his looks stopped meaning I wish you’d be quiet and started meaning I love you more I thought I could that he realized it- that nobody had bothered to tell them that they were too busy looking in other directions when they should have been facing each other all along.

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Now playing: Rob Drabkin – The Way You Look Tonight
via FoxyTunes