Going Gossip Girl crazy

Step One: Fall in love with Blake Lively.

Step Two: Watch Gossip Girl, simply because it stars Blake Lively (but also because I am stuck at home alone and feel like I have no friends, since we aren’t supposed to socialize in real life right now, and watching the show makes me feel like I have friends in whose lives I am invested and everything).

Step Three: Fall in love with Chuck Bass, the character.

Step Four: Fall slightly in love with Ed Westwick, the actor who plays Chuck Bass.

Step Five: Discover that Ed Westwick is actually British, and fall a little bit more in love with him.

Step Six: Pointedly ignore the fact that these are all people I never will meet, be it that they are either fictitious or absurdly famous – whatever the case, they are basically unreachable by me – as well as the fact that I am in love with the character people are supposed to dislike and almost hate.

Step Seven: Daydream middle school obsessively about them all, and even consider putting up posters on my wall of a tanned, slightly unshaven Ed Westwick.

Step Eight: Acknowledge that my love is absurd, determine not to be worried about it, indulge happily, and accept confidently my own silly and delightful absurdity that truly helps to pass the time well.

Step Nine: Do near-absurd levels of research of Ed Westwick interviews online, and enjoy it thoroughly.

Step Ten: Get over it all suddenly and entirely, and move on with ease, almost forgetting that it was ever even a thing, and preparing mentally for whatever shall come next in life and personal fancies. 😛

Gossip Girl Crazy

Post-a-day 2020

Phone crush!

Are we allowed to crush on people we meet over the phone?… on a help line?…is that a thing?

Certainly not, but that’s okay – I have a mini crush anyway.

I think it was his chuckles that got me… we were talking about how somebody messed up delivering a package, and yet somehow we both ended up chuckling a lot during our 14-minute phone call… that and his real warmness every time he said my name, calling me “Miss Hannah” in an uplifting way (as opposed to the near disrespectful and demeaning version I have heard on many a helpline).

I just got off from a phone conversation with an adorable Bradley, who happens to be living in the future (by eight hours) in Cape Town, South Africa.

Sometimes, the whole outsourcing of help lines is terrible, and nothing seems to work out, due to language and culture barriers, combined with a terrible phone connection, or something else absurd.

And sometimes, it works out wonderfully – I’ve already had one of my absurd fairy-tale-like stories play out in my head, where adorable, chuckling Bradley in South Africa and I end up meeting in real life and becoming besties or something – maybe even marrying…. ‘How did you two meet?’ ‘Well, it was an outsourced help line phone call that brought us together… Hannah called, and Bradley answered… and it turned into true life, half the world apart.’

😛 hashtag guffaw 😛

It is things like this that make me feel confident in my ability to produce absurd and entertaining stories that nod to Sophie Kinsella books – silly and goofy and crazy things already go down in my life, and then my mind takes them, in a mere moment, to a whole ‘nother level… truly.

What’s really fun to me about it all is the fact that I had called in to the hotline already, but the person had somehow messed up the call, or something, and had just disappeared… so Bradley was my second call in to the hotline.

Boy am I glad my call was messed up the first time. 😛

I really do love my life, and I am grateful for it, with all of my being.


Post-a-day 2019

High school crushes

It seems that I have a sort of high school crush.  That is to say, if I were in high school right now, I would have a total crush on this musical theatre guy.  For whatever reason, I noticed his photo and name in a program a few years ago, and have remembered him ever since, always recognizing his face and name, both in the program and actually up on the stage.  (I think I overheard some family members of his once, and so checked the program to see whom they were talking about doing so well in his musical theatre goals.  That sounds familiar.)

Anyway, it’s been so long and it has happened so gradually, I didn’t even notice when I started getting excited any time I saw him in a program.  Fast forward to tonight, and I was actually a bit giddy when I saw his picture and name.  I had a casual fan girl moment when he passed me as I walked to the bathroom during intermission. And it was not actual freak-out or anything – I merely smiled and considered how I would have freaked out and jumped up and down and all if I actually had been in high school, and if this were a real crush.

Nonetheless, I am delighted for this guy and his obviously progressing career in musical theatre – and his obviously progressing muscle mass – and it is exciting to recognize someone in all of these shows, even if I haven’t met him and I don’t actually know him.  Just his name and his talent…

Plus, it’s quite likely that he is gay, making it all the more like my old high school crushes – the best and most desireable guys always seemed to be gay back then.  (And I’m not so sure that that has changed much since then, actually…)

Post-a-day 2018

College Crush

After meeting up with a friend from college tonight, I have college people on my mind.  This friend mentioned, “I think you just knew more people than I did,” (I might have edited that for improved grammar, but I really don’t remember.) an idea that seems almost crazy, seeing as how he spent the full time on campus, but I only spent about half of my shortened college career on campus.  And I was placed in the introvert section of my freshman dorm… I think I was the only one who knew everyone in my hall that year.

One person in particular has come to mind as I mingle in this thought of meeting so many people: my reasonable crush.  Certainly, I had more than one little crush in college, but there was one who didn’t seem to have anything like a big red flag, when it came to the idea of practicality of the crush.  It wasn’t like I ever intended to do anything about the crush, but he was the only one who might actually have agreed to go on a date with me, had I somehow found myself asking him.

I don’t recall the absolute first time we met, but the first time we really had a one-on-one was at a regular college party.  I had gone over with some girls from my hall – we’d all ridden in one girl’s car together.  No one expected me to stay long at the party, but I usually went to the party for a little bit, chatted, danced, hung out, went home, and then went back to the party to pick up the girls whenever they were finished for the night.  On this particular night, nothing was different.  I was alcohol-free and dancing near a corner, I believe (more out of avoiding having alcohol spilled on me and drunk guys trying to rub up on me, than out of an attempt to isolate myself).  And, somehow, I found myself talking with this guy.  

He was cute in his drunken efforts to flirt and be sweet, though the fact that the efforts were drunken gave him no real chance of anything other than talking a bit with me.  Afterward, at least one of the girls commented on how he wouldn’t leave me alone at the party, we talked for so long.  I enjoyed the attention, but the drunken lining was not to my taste, so I considered little on the matter.  I was just talking to a guy half out of his wits, and he was nice.  And that was it.  I don’t remember when my crush began with him, if it was before or a while after this experience, but I never accept drunken thoughts as forms of true, desired communication, so his “interest” was easily disregarded.  And a guy drinking at a college party usually wants sex, not a girlfriend and potential wife.

But, later on, after the crush was fully settled within me, I delighted in watching him swim fabulously on the swim team, one of the cool sports at our school where everyone seemed to be just really neat people of various backgrounds.

Anyway, by the time I was visiting one of my best friends, years later, in her last semester of college (I finished college early, remember.), my crush was in full swing.  My friend informed me that my crush lived in the house just over from hers.  I had already envied her living in that particular old-style house near campus, and I only envied it more at this piece of information.

‘He showed up at the back door, and asked for butter once.’  (Or was it that she asked him for butter, and he asked her for eggs once?  I’ll have to ask her.  She might still remember.)

We both knew I was filled with teenage girl crush envy at this.  I could have possibly befriended him, if I had taken longer for college, and lived in my rightfully earned place at that awesome house.  But I didn’t, and so it goes.

Anyway, he’s hopefully more gorgeous than ever, working a great job, and making great money that allows him to clad himself in stunning attire.  I haven’t kept up, but he’s still gorgeous in my head, and I think I’m actually nervous to look him up and find out that his health and looks didn’t improve with age since college.

Post-a-day 2017

Crushes & the imagination

I’ve got to say: There’s something really fun about having a crush.  

Perhaps it’s the excitement and anticipation of wondering what, if anything, might happen.  Will he end up confessing his undying love for me?  Will he declare that I am the best person he has ever known, and that he cannot imagine life without me?  Will he become my best guy friend for now, or even for the rest of my life?  (Actually had this happen.)  Will he end up being psycho?  (Again, happened.)  Will he even notice I exist?  (Yep.)  Will he completely ignore me, and go date some other, more sexy girl?  (Happened.)  Will he be the best guy I’ve ever known, yet never have a bit of interest in me?  (Yup.)  Is he actually gay?  (This one, too.)  Will he become a priest instead of dating me?  (Really am speaking from experience, here. :P)

But then, perhaps part of it is also imagining life, should something actually come of the crush.  Will we become this amazing couple, traveling the world together with a dog and a cat and a few kiddos?  Will people wish they were we, or wish they had what we have?  Will I get to announce our engagement to all of our family and friends?  Will he turn out to be the man who breaks my heart?  Will we spend weeks at a time visiting beautiful beaches together, living a picture perfect vacation life each time?  Will I be the woman who breaks his heart?  Will we do something fabulous in a big city together, and be super modern and hip with our furnishings and modern art?  Will he turn out to be absolutely vain or utterly boring?  Will we end up on a ranch together, raising kids who ride horses, and swinging into the nearby lake on sunny days?  Will we be dancing, singing superstars (at least among all of our friends)?  Will he end up being super jealous, that we can’t possibly stay together, because I couldn’t possibly give up my friends?  Will I?  Will we move into an old, renovated fire station, and be art and music hipsters who help save the world each day?  The ideas go on and on, to any degree of crazy my imagination feels like going that particular day.

Perhaps it’s nature, perhaps it’s nurture, and perhaps it’s a bit of both, but I have these sorts of thoughts every time I have a crush.  Even for the times where I have no intention, desire, or even opportunity for anything to come of the crush, these sorts of thoughts still rush to mind.  It’s as though I have a sort of mobile-esque photo montage floating around my head, filled with snapshots from all of our potential life paths together.

For the most part, I enjoy the ideas without actually considering them to be a likely forecast of the future.  Sure, they could happen.  However, I find them all quite unlikely.(Though, I do admit that very upsetting scenarios also come to mind at times, and so I am always glad to know that those particular futures are very unlikely.)  I think I just enjoy imagining how crazy and awesome a story it would be to tell everyone if such-and-such happened between whomever and me.  ‘Kids, this is how Daddy and I met.  Can you believe it?’ 😛
On a sort of tangent, this all kind of reminds me of how people say that women have had their weddings planned since they were little girls.  I think we just have fun using our imaginations, and a wedding is just one particular outlet for them.  

I’ve often thought about my own wedding, however I can never decide on any actual details.  As soon as I think I want a certain style of white dress, I suddenly think I want a totally different style of green velveteen, or perhaps floral ochre…  I think I just don’t really care about the results, because it isn’t actually something real happening – for the time being, it’s just a brain exercise…  I love imagining various wedding scenarios for myself, of course.  However, that doesn’t mean that I’m actually planning my own wedding.  You know?  Anyway… just some thoughts.

Crushes are fun, in part for their potential, and in great part for their role in the imagination-creativity game.  I mean, what if he actually asks me out, and then confesses his love for me while we’re ice skating in the park, followed by our having hot cocoa, going horseback riding, and then dancing together all night to live music?  It could totally happen.  ; )


Post-a-day 2017