Monday, November 24, 2008
my, your face is beautiful in this (twi)light
I have a crush.
Yes, I'm happily married to Hubs and ever continually fall deeper and deeper in love with him.
a) climb trees at the blink of an eye with me on his back
b) protect me from evil vampires
c) hear the thoughts of my boss, parents, worst enemies or best friends
d) make his hair do the sticky-up thing
Therefore my crush is on Robert Pattinson. (Duh.) Or is it on Edward Cullen?
This is what I'm trying to figure out.
Robert, who plays Edward Cullen in "Twilight", is smokin' hot. (And he's over the age of 18, I looked it up.) But, he only plays the character. He is not the real Edward.
(Maybe that makes my crush less bad in Hub's eyes. Clearly Edward Cullen is not real, so Hubs can take comfort in the fact that I'm not going anywhere.)
Seriously, though. This entire nation (and maybe world) is obsessed with a fictitious person. Edward Cullen is not real. He is not flesh or blood. (Despite his desire to drink it.) Edward is a figment of Stephanie Meyer's imagination. He's a fantasy that she put together from years of experiences with boys, and how she wished they acted. She's removed the ego, the selfishness, the hot to trot libido, and made one perfect man.
(But he's created by a woman. Does that make me a lesbian? I'm just sayin'.)
And because of Ms. Meyer, in the past few months, I will admit to having full blown day dream fantasies about my someday encounter with Edward Cullen. Oh yes.
My fantasy is pretty standard. It's the one about "the boy" in high school. You know this one, yes?
You went to school only to see that one boy? The one boy that always smelled perfect, always had the right clothes and the right words to say? (Even if the right words were just, "Hey, Kim. Killer snow boots. It's cool your Mom wants to be sure your feet are warm.")
Each day you went to school thinking about him, and spent the majority of your academic day wishing you might see him. Hoping that me might ask you to pick up the croutons he just dropped on the cafeteria floor. Hoping that yours just might be the one picture in the year book he looks at before bed each night.
(I must say, for the record, that the real boy I fantasized and obsessed over in high school got bald, fat and is a total loser now. YES!)
In my fantasy, that boy has become Edward.
I envision that just one ordinary day, Edward passes me in the hall, but rather than doing that ridiculous "head-bob-hello" thing, he instead parts the stream of shuffling students like Moses and the Red Sea. He strides over, backs me against my locker and leans against me, kissing me passionately for 30 seconds (despite his friends watching and laughing) and slips a note into my pocket. (Which of course contains his phone number and secret coded message of love that only I understand.)
No? Just me, huh? Damn.
These high school fantasies (thankfully starring Edward instead of loser bald guy) have been plaguing me for about a month now. And I was feeling pretty guilty about them, seeing as how I'm happily married and all that. Until I realized something.
The characteristics and personality traits that I obsess over and love about Edward are really all elements and traits that my husband possesses. YAY! In fact, almost everything about Edward reminds me of Hubs.
(Although, I did tell Hubs to please grow out his hair, invest in a flat iron and get blonde highlights and gold contacts.)
So, in reality, when I'm getting all excited mooshy gooshy dreamy about Edward, I'm really getting excited about Hubs. By dreaming about Edward and his shenanigans with me, I'm rekindling the ever-glowing flame of love I have with the true man of my dreams.
(Yes, the face of Hubs might occasionally be replaced with Robert Pattinson's, but c'mon. Let's be honest. Like Hub's hasn't ever dreamt about Jessica Alba showing up at his front door... out of gas and soaking wet, looking for a place to stay the night. And let's not forget, Jessica's a real person. Edward Cullen is a figment of a friggin' girl's imagination.)
We win. Edward Cullen crushes are now officially allowed.
Dream on, girls. Dream on.