There’s a scene in Win A Date with Tad Hamilton that makes me laugh every time. The two girls are thinking about the movie star Tad Hamilton and wondering aloud what he is doing at that moment.
“I bet he’s in church.” One of them decides. Well, he’s far from that. But in their minds, the focus of their crush is the epitome of perfection, the archetype of manliness, the zenith of goodness.
Sometimes I think a “crush” is so named because that’s what it does to our common sense.
Girls are so funny. The girl’s mind in the midst of a crush is even funnier. Years later when one looks back at how ridiculous she has been over something – or someone – perhaps all she can do is take consolation in two things:
1) It’s over.
2) She’s not alone.
After all, if she was the only one to be so ridiculous, they wouldn’t make movies about it. Or write books about it. I also think of the scene in Jane Austen’s Emma when Harriet Smith has finally overcome her love for Mr. Elton and brings a small box of “treasures” to Emma so that they can destroy them. These treasures, these things she held so dear, were things like a pencil without lead and a piece of bandage.
“My poor dear Harriet! and have you actually found happiness in treasuring up these things?”
“Yes, simpleton as I was! but I am quite ashamed of it now, and wish I could forget as easily as I can burn them. It was very wrong of me, you know, to keep any remembrances, after he was married. I knew it was — but had not resolution enough to part with them.”
Now, dear readers, don’t think I’ve endured a crush recently. I haven’t had a crush in quite some time (I know — those of you who know me well will probably have to pick yourselves off the floor after that comment). But I had a laugh about a crush while home for Christmas, and I thought I would share it.
Somehow, sharing embarrassing things on the blog seem to make them less embarrassing. Maybe it’s because I can laugh and say, “See, it’s so frightfully embarrassing, but I’m willing to tell a bunch of strangers, so we can all laugh together and you can see that I’m not really embarrassed. Just humored.”
While I was home at Christmas, my mom asked me to throw away (or at least put away out of sight) various things that had been collecting in my room over the past, well, ten years. Or maybe more than that. Anyway, I was throwing away various lotions and body sprays that were collecting dust in a box when I came across a certain body spray that I hadn’t worn in years.
Well, in about 12 years.
There was a certain spray from Bath and Body Works that I wore my freshman year of high school. My freshman year was an interesting year for me — lots of emotions and various attachments that I could probably write a great novel about some day, provided I change everyone’s names. Among other emotional roller coasters, I had a particularly crippling crush on a senior boy who didn’t know I existed.
Again, if this didn’t happen in real life, we wouldn’t have movies, or books, or blog posts about these problems.
Anyway, without going into dreadful detail about a situation which is now completely hilarious (that part of the novel will be entertaining, I assure you. Like the time he rear-ended my father in the parking lot of school), let’s just say that this scent always reminded me of him. Not for any particular reason (unlike the strawberry-kiwi Lip Smackers I wore precisely because a friend overheard him tell a girl he liked the smell of it)… although perhaps it was because his picture sat on my dresser where I sprayed the stuff on every morning. Hahaha, anyway… The smell was forever in my mind as “freshman year.”
It was a really great year, looking back. And so perhaps I was a bit reluctant to part with that last bit of body spray.
…Even though that was so many years ago. The sagas of freshman year are over, even if some of them did go on a bit longer after that. I’m a very different person than I was then, thankfully, and I’ve learned a lot.
But it was with some mixed feelings, admittedly, that this went into the trash.
Ah, the irony…