It's been awhile since I've had a celebrity crush.
FUCK, though. (Don't curse). If there's anything more heart-wrenchingly beautiful than watching the man of your dreams tear off his shirt and do the Achy Breaky in front of a thousand adoring women, it's watching a sitcom actor that had barely crossed your radar humbly, seemingly effortlessly, captivate your heart and mind for hours straight.
I'm hardly a film critic. But last Saturday night, at the screening of happythankyoumoreplease, I remembered what it's like to be so utterly enamored with and inspired by someone's work, that you practically lose your voice searching for words to do it justice.
The director of SFIFF forewarned the audience that watching the film would make you want to have sex, over, and over, and over again. For my fellow movie-goers that night, I can only hope the molecules on the face of the person sitting next to you rearranged themselves as needed. For my part, it was if the hustle and bustle of my technology-driven life had disappeared, and all that remained were the city lights above, illuminating a slightly different path than the one I was sure to have set out on... and all I wanted to do was write, over, and over, and over again...
Happy. Thank You. More, more, more,
I think I might be kind of maybe ok who am I kidding please don't get another gorgeous celebrity girlfriend and break my heart too soon because I am, officially inspired and in love.