james dean

okay, okay: time for a little frivolity, for fuck's sakes!
grin
___

i'm a girl who likes crushes. i find them invigorating, stimulating, fun and healthy. and generally, they happen at work - so they're also a great way to find a few giggles in an otherwise long day...

for the longest time, i had fairly unwaivering standards to my crush-recipients. they were generally either uninterested or otherwise involved (and actually faithful, so being otherwise involved actually meant something). the benefit to this was that i could engage rather freely in unabashed flirtation without any fear of consequence. it was always playful, never with expectation or weirdness. just good, clean, light fun.

well this year, in my many crushes, i strayed from my standards twice. both times, i was seriously affected. blushing, diverted eyes, shuffling feet, tongue-tied - the whole bit. once was in may, a fellow crew member during kids fest. the other was this past month, a bartender at the restaurant i was working in.

now.. what's particularly fascinating about these two fellas, other than their ability to render me useless in their presence, were their similarities. they both have this great, thick, messy blonde hair (for some reason, i haven't dated nearly as many blondes as i have brunettes).

and they were both Young. i joked in may of exploring my inner cougar, but the basic idea was that it would help keep the flirtations light, as per code. well, it was the idea anyway, until they opened their gorgeous mouths and became so damned interesting!! kids these days, i tell ya... anyway, the may hottie was 19, the december one, 23. i just turned 33. it was quite shocking to me! most especially because, since i first discovered lust in my early teens, i've mostly dated guys who were way too old for me - as most recently demonstrated by my 49 year-old lover.

the exceptional crushes were also both very... well... shy. quiet. and... oh, i don't know... they had this uncomfortable and yet superior nonchalance about them. a way of standing, looking, being that was just.. very cool. if i had to sum it up in two words, i'd say: "james dean."

and so it seems i've developed a bit of a james dean fetish! i dunno, but i find this interesting. i mean, there is a strong possibility that a big part of what i found attractive was just how opposite they were to my aged, dark-haired, loud-mouthed, socialite lover.

or maybe i'm rediscovering a long-forgotten, full-on james dean fetish. see, i was pondering all this the other day, when i suddenly remembered a poem i'd written when i was around 14, about james dean. oh man, i wish i had it with me, i'd transcribe it for you! (it's currently in storage, where all my shit's been living in cold loneliness since march.) i'm sure it's terrible, but very earnest and passionate! perhaps i'll try to remember to share it, when i'm some day reunited with my estranged life... i'm sure it would give you all a good shudder/giggle!

but for now, i'm just ponderin... i dunno, maybe i've just come full-circle. maybe it's time for me to be 14 again...

GASP! e-fucking-gads, i hope not!!!


but dreams
of being kissed by james dean
make lonely nights so much funner!