Me of Many Moonstruck Meanderings

I saw this in one of my psych books and love it for unknown reasons.

So I realize that in my long word vomit about my friends' relationship experiences, I failed to talk about any of my own. And if I'm going to tell all about my friends, it's only fair that I do the same for myself. Of course, there's really not much to discuss. But then again, maybe there's more there than I think. So, being a creepy psych major, I'm going to talk it through and come to... some sort of consensus. All for the benefit of those publicly judging me.

I guess I could start at the beginning, in preschool, when I'm pretty sure I had a crush on a kid named Jordan (one easy way to tell if I have a crush - I talk about the person A LOT). But then he tattled on me for playing with clay during storytime and, though our teacher said it was fine, it was like he knew my real intentions (I had it because I wanted to take it home with me because I didn't have any clay at home. But then I left it under a dining room chair and it got all dry and useless. One of the only two times I've stolen in my entire life - and both times were an epic fail. But I digress...) Anyway, I never really forgave Jordan for his betrayal. Not the most positive start, eh?

I had a crush [quick disclaimer - I wouldn't really regard these as crushes because I didn't recognize them as such until much later. In fact, I don't think I ever recognized I really liked a guy in a romantic-sort of way until high school. It seems the late bloomer thing is a common theme with me] on a kid named Michael in 3rd or 4th grade until I moved. And then there was an awkward incident with a boy named William. Girls seemed to know more about him than I did, but I once heard a rumor that in second grade he forced a kiss upon one of my friends (but I never asked her about it because I felt like it was inappropriate. And because I'm awkward enough regarding small talk). One rainy day, we were stuck inside for indoor recess and playing some game that William wasn't happy with. He wanted me to play something else, but I didn't want to. So he tried to coerce me through pleading and inching his hand up my leg. I was wearing a skort or a skirt or something and so part of my thigh was exposed. Once his hand got there I was totally freaking out and I had no idea what to do. I didn't know what he was doing, I don't know if he knew what he was doing, and it was definitely not making me any more willing to play with him. He finally stopped touching my leg (probably when it looked like I was going to start crying) and left me alone and I was relieved. I however was terrified of him for the rest of my time at that school.

That probably sounds like the perfect place for someone like Doctor Phil to be like, "See, that traumatized you and scarred you and changed you." I don't know if it did. Honestly, I've never told anyone about that before. Maybe it did. It never really troubled me - well, it troubled me, but I never really thought about it as possibly, you know, important to my psyche until I started studying psychology. It's probably not. It's probably just an awkward, uncomfortable growing up experience. Did it have much of an impact? Who the hell knows...

Then the move to Minnesota. Despite like half of my friends and my grandmother's belief, I never had a crush on [uber gay]. I just didn't. He annoyed me at first, actually. I did have a crush on a guy named Ethan, who moved to California and I never saw him again. He deserves more than this simple sentence, but I was twelve, so... not really much to say.

AND he's a Celtic fan? Goddammit... (from people.com)

And then in junior high I met [Broadway baby] and became really good friends with him. He was the closest guy friend, other than [uber gay] and maybe Michael, that I'd ever had. And then in high school, for our first homecoming dance, he gave me an corsage, an "extra one" that he said he'd had, even though my parents were convinced he bought it on purpose. It was the only time a guy has ever bought me flowers. I realized that I might just have a crush on [Broadway baby] in sophomore year. The same year he came out. Alas.

Somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year of high school I had my first star crush, on a Scot no less. Thank you, Gerard Butler, for making the Phantom of the Opera ridiculously sexy. You were supposed to have a scarred appearance,  you were supposed to a crazy murderer. And yet you were still hot.

Then there were the awkward high school years, which I'd rather not talk about but probably don't have a choice (actually, I do, but this is my blog. And I have this whole honesty bit going on...) I had some weird celebrity crushes (Jason Issacs, Hugo Weaving, Heath Ledger only after I'd seen him in The Dark Knight), some random comedy infatuations (looking at you, Stephen Colbert and Craig Ferguson) and other various actor obsessions (Hugh Jackman, Colin Firth, Paul Bettany). And then I saw Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge and my life was forever changed. Or ruined. I'm not sure, exactly.

Also amongst high school were weird awkward feelings of I-don't-know-what for a teacher or two. It was probably more intense admiration but I didn't know how to process it and thus stupidly told [X] and [novel killer] about one of them at the end of high school and thus became known for having a thing for authority figures. It was not an encouraging step towards actually talking about my feelings.

But wait, I'm forgetting something... there was that week at a summer music clinic at the University of Wisconsin, where one of my instructors was an opera grad student in music, specifically opera. He was gay, I'm pretty sure, but I couldn't help getting a tiny crush on a guy who can tell you the plot of Tosca in modern, exciting terms and then sings fantastic tenor solos at the class's urging. Between this and McGregor, I think I have a thing for vocalists.

And I'm totally forgetting a whole thing with [hahahaha SHUT UP] which I've never really spoken about. That deserves discussion... but probably not here. Because it would take far too much discussion and explanation.

Then college. Star crushes on Michael Fassbender and Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterd. And on James McAvoy after Becoming Jane. And obviously John Barrowman... because of reasons.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Because last year I fell hard for one of my instructors, [tedesco]. I was pretty much in love with him. As much as you can be with someone you don't know super well, someone who's older than you and will never reciprocate what you think you feel. I say think because it's actually hard for me to recognize that I felt that way about him now. [X] had an nice little explanation for this when I talked to her about it, after I'd fallen for [No-Mr-Darcy] which you can experience here. I think I was just happy to find someone to talk to in a new major, who was cute and funny and not afraid to say what he was thinking, even if it was awkward and I disagreed. I think it was just nice to meet a guy who actually liked deep, intellectual conversations.

And just as the school year ended and I was trying to work through my feelings regarding [tedesco], I met [No-Mr-Darcy]. It was honestly the first time I had a crush on someone who was my age since [Broadway baby]. It was the first time I actually felt NOT scared to tell someone how I felt, given the right time (though that never came). But I don't have to tell you all about that. You can read it all here. And here. And pretty much anything in August or September.

So that's that. There you go. We could do this by terms of firsts, but I don't know if that's a good way to approach my life. As my first serious crush that wasn't on celebrity wasn't really until... senior year of high school. And my first date was a non-date with [No-Mr-Darcy] that ended with a hand shake. And my "first kiss" was an awkward cheek peck from [hahahaha SHUT UP]. And that William and the random neck licker from Friday Night Paint Fight and [slightly pansexual, mostly annoying]'s backrub are the most intimate any man has ever been with me (and two out of the three were totally unwanted... and the back rub was grudgingly accepted. Actually, [slightly pansexual, mostly annoying] might actually have a bit of finess for back massage on awkward trips from an apartment to the Saloon while his friend [save the panzer] is currently trying not to turn around and strangle him. But I digress). And then there was the forced cuddling from [one-complicated-lesbian] who was distraught to find that I had never cuddled with anyone before, even with a friend, and then forced me to experience it in a bunk in our Fort William hostel. God, that sounds bad. It was nonsexual, but still totally awkward. (How do I get myself into these situations? Really?)

See what I mean? It sounds really bad - like the plot to some comedy-drama.  It sounds even worse when you've had a bad day and the weather sucks and you can't sleep and you're home all alone and you feel crappy and you think you're going to be alone forever. Which is an assumption. And a stupid assumption. So fuck that. Seriously. Yes, I have a zero relationship experience. Yes, I am a total romantic who has no notion of what modern dating actually consists of. But something will work out. There are 7 BILLION PEOPLE on this planet. 7 BILLION. Somewhere out there, there has to be someone else who's not a royal jerk, who isn't socially awkward, who isn't trying so hard to prove his manliness or show how smart he is or just get in some girl's pants. Who's just comfortable being who he is. Am I really that naive to think that not all my romantic notions are false? But really, I'm not asking for this:

http://www.doodlekisses.com/forum/topics/things-to-do-if-the-lights-go-out-during-the-hurricane?page=9&commentId=2065244%3AComment%3A2673482&x=1#2065244Comment2673482

I don't want that. That freaks me out. And it just seems... false. I'm just asking for this:

This has been another romantic musing by the Vulture. I beg your indulgence.

Side comment: I just remembered another star obsession I had: Rupert Everett. Ah, yes... Thanks to him I now a fan of Oscar Wilde. For the win.