April 24, 2007:
Why?
How could they do this to me? With Joss off the air and our HBO and Showtime cancelled, I’d finally gotten over all my silly adolescent obsessive celebrity crushes. And then they had to go and put Nathan Fillian back on the TV. Now I’m wearing out the pause button my my remote.
Just a few weeks ago, I was congratulating myself on finally being a grown-up and abandoning my imaginary-boyfriend infatuations.
My last lingering non-Joss crush, Joaquin Phoenix, which got a little resurgence for Walk the Line, finally petered out because, really, I can’t stay wholeheartedly obsessed with a vegan, even if it’s a pretend relationship. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m capable of being enduringly sexually attracted to even a regular vegetarian, at least in real life. I think a vegetarian imaginary boyfriend would be fine. It’s not that I even eat much meat, and I’m just as likely to have a vegan supper as a meaty one any given night (but that’s as much economics as taste). Practically speaking, I’m very veg- and vegan-friendly. But that’s cooking for, not humping with. It’s just, oh, I don’t know, I love food so much that having to reign in my cooking would dampen my enthusiasm. I could probably manage, say, a wheat allergy, or maybe even a shellfish allergy, as long as it wasn’t so serious I couldn’t keep it in the house. In practice, I’m liberal and respectful about diets, but in my loins, I just can’t seem to separate big grand lifestyle dietary choices from plain old picky eating, and nothing turns me off like a picky eater.
But I don’t know anything about Cap’n Tightpants’ diet. I may change my tune, especially if he uses that panty-melting growly voice when I’m marinating the tofu for our imaginary dinner.
See? You see how I get? It’s horrible. I’m a grown woman, for crying out loud. This is absurd.
Did I tell you about how I once casually referred to Peter Krause as "my boyfriend" and my friend LB, apparently unfamiliar with imaginary boyfriends, thought I meant that Peter Krause was my actual boyfriend? He even told one of his friends, so I was appropriately mortified as well as highly amused. I insisted he call his friend back and set him straight. It was all I could do not to dial the number for him and say "LB has something to tell you." I’m not ashamed of having imaginary boyfriends per se–every girl I know has them (Suzanne would slow-mo all of those Casino Royale commercials with the 2 seconds of Daniel Craig coming out of the water to the point that it started to irritate her very patient husband)–but I’d be humiliated if someone thought I was genuinely lying about it and pretending to have a real life imaginary boyfriend.
Enough confessing. I’m going to go watch the rest of Drive now. I just had to take a little break because I was getting all sweaty and flustered.
I think I see a Firefly marathon in my future.
