2004-01-15 - 9:33 a.m.

I knew I had arrived as a twentysomething when I realized I had a crush on a 36 year old married man. I've come a long way, baby.

Let me clarify a bit here. I am not talking about a lust-fueled, lip-licking, squirm in your seat, Samantha Jones-esque, touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me, baby baby if it's all right would you rock me all night kinda crush. I am talking about the melt your knees, heart fluttering, smile when you see them, I just want to meet yo daddy, I just want you in my caddy, I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas kinda crush. I got the former crush on older (as in 35+) guys plenty, and still do, whether they were married or not. There were professors and TAs who made me stretch the limits of what I considered myself willing to do to get an A, celebrities who made me want to drive out to Hollywood (I would screw Ian McKellan in a second, based on his Richard III alone), and even people at my office who I wouldn't mind throwing onto my desk in a move that wouldn't be so much pornographic as farcical, in a French sort of way. However, I really was never going to do anything about these little constructions of desire, because I am not a homewrecker, and I would be kinda squicked out about actually sleeping with someone who could have baby-sat me when I was still, in fact, a baby. That, and I haven't had the opportunity.

However, this is the first time when I've come to a point with a MOG (married older guy) where, were the opportunity to present itself for some hot monkey-lovin' in a cheap motel, I would have to say no, because I would want to call the guy the next day, or better yet not have him leave at all. I'd want to hold him and look up into his eyes and . . . okay, excuse me, I need to go check my insulin levels, or something, because this much sugar is making me sick.

Having said this, I have decided to enjoy this crush, because I know exactly why I have it: I am bored.

This is not to say that the guy isn't wholly deserving of a crush. He's intelligent, which is the first prerequisite of me liking a guy, and kinda dorky, which is another. He's taller than me, which is VERY rare and a HUGE bonus, and has bright eyes and a bright smile. Now, all this would get me to the point of roll me, daddy, like you roll your flour dough (I don't know why I'm reaching back to old school Tina Turner, but I will explain the Liz Phair and Outkast references I made earlier on, I promise) lustfulness, but this guy is a do-gooder. He wants to make his community a better place and actually works towards that goal. That's what gets me every time. You can be a selfish smart-ass and get me in bed, but if you make the world a better place, then, to quote Som'more, "I'm like crazy glue. You fuck with me, you stuck with me! We ain't breakin' up for shit!"

However, I do not buy into that whole "You can't stop the raging tide of love, for it is like the floods of yore, blah blah blah" nonsense. I think you can make a decision to ignore the feelings, to put them aside and not deal with them, or you can wrap yourself in the glow and enjoy the way it seems to lift you off your feet. Right now, I am going with the second option, because, as I said, I am bored.

I haven't had a good crush in a while, particularly not one of my hero-worshipping, let me help you change the world kinda crushes. I am extremely picky, and so it's rare that I find a guy who holds my interest. This is a bit depressing. I spent a lot of Dec 31st listening to "Fuck and Run" by Liz Phair (who, according to Jen over at http://www.livejournal.com/users/eltrutori3/ should be called Eliza Phair, because of her all new, all lame Avril-esque CD). If you haven't heard the song, she sings about waking up after another one night stand and waondering, "Whatever happened to a boyfriend? The kinda guy who tries to win you over? The kinda guy that makes love cause he's in it?" The lyric that specifically resonated was, "I can feel it in my bones; I'm gonna spend another year alone. It's fuck and run, fuck and run, even when I was 17." That's pretty much my life, right there. I have no problem with sex, and I still don't but it would be kinda nice to be able to spend time with someone the following morning.

A committed relationship, however, would be inconvenient to the point of absurdity for me right now. I'll be living here in Austin for less than a year at this point, possibly for as short a time as five months if I have to start my MA in the summer. Actually falling in love, and having someone fall in love with me, would be a minor disaster, particularly since the rarity of such an event would prompt me to reconsider leaving town, which . . . HELL no! In fact, come to think of it, I may have been so reluctant to fall for guys in the past because I've yet to feel like I've landed

So, for the moment, I am keeping my heart occupied with this really great guy who I can't have, who I wouldn't even want because of my respect for his wife (just so you know, there's a bisexual history there, so I'm not totally pathetic), and truth be told I am enjoying it. As I was singing "Hey Ya" to myself for the twenty-first time this morning, I realized that having a crush on someone is kinda like having a really good song stuck in your head. You wind up moving to the beat, and whispering it to yourself, and you find yourself getting through the day a bit faster because of it. The problems start when you realize that it's been in your head for way too long, and you start to hate it. At that point, you need to find another song to get in your head, or you'll go nuts.

Granted, getting new songs stuck in your head is a lot easier than getting new people in there. But that's what (hopefully) hot English and Theatre grad students are for, not to mention the assortment of gay boys in New York, London, the Bay Area, and even Philadelphia.

Until then, I'll just keep enjoying the little rush, and try to keep from dancing around the office, saying, "Shake it like a Polaroid picture!!!"

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