Monday, 10 May 2010

Hattie's first love

EDIT: 13/08/2010 You can now listen as you read along with my partner in crime and collaboration, Peeteer Smith, narrating in his special way!

Have you ever experienced that unique, special moment when you first lay eyes on the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with? That intoxicating, overwhelming, important moment of utter convincedness when you realise 'this is it. This is the person I'm going to marry'?

I was 6. And he was Harrison Ford. Needless to say I didn't grow up to marry him (although there's still time, I guess, however he is married to that McNeal character), but more about that later. I knew, in my very heart of hearts I knew, that this was the love of my life and that I would love him forever and ever and marry him and have his Ford babies etc etc (don't tell my man, he'll be mortally wounded if he finds out that I am in fact lying when I tell him he's the love of my life - Harrison Ford pipped him to the post by 20 years). I was head over heels in love, and I proclaimed my love to my parents in the way only a six year old girl can - I asked them if they'd write to his parents and invite him round for tea. When they told me it may not be possible, I strategically announced that I would in that case become an actress, and then I could invite him round for tea myself. He was my future husband, of course. It had to happen.

The following week poor old Harrison had been tossed aside in favour of Patrick Swayze (or 'Swayzer' as I thought it was until my friend Phil told me otherwise) - and so it went on ad infinitum until the age of about 17 when my hormones stopped raging and I wasn't flitting like an insatiable love gnat from movie star to rock star to movie star in the blink of an eye.

Patrick actually graduated from love interest to imaginary friend. I remember very distinctly coming home after school to Pat, reclined on my bed waiting for me in that Burgundy shirt and black trouser get up he sported throughout the movie Ghost (why the fuck I was allowed to watch Ghost at that age is beyond me - I'd also seen Child's Play by the age of 7. And a life time of therapy and behavioural problems is explained in a tiny, corrupt nutshell). Anyway, he'd be on my bed and I'd tell him about my day (what he got up to when I was gone is anybody's guess, I'm fairly sure he wasn't a paedo as he never showed up at my school gates, or indeed in the changing rooms, and he seemed genuinely interested in just being friends. Although my feelings were more than that). My mum would come in and tell me to do chores and I'd roll my eyes at him, embarrassed that my mum had made me look so uncool in front of my famous friend!

My ludicrously fantastical imagination was but a burgeoning bud of delusion at this point. There was then the time I was so convinced that Michael J Fox was about to burst through my 2nd storey window after having skillfully scaled the side of our block of flats, that I asked my mum to teach me how to 'write in American' (she's Canadian - close enough. More on my imagined language barrier later). After 15 or 16 attempts, I succeeded in proudly scrawling 'hello Michael J Fox' IN JOINED UP WRITING on a piece of paper in smudgey orange felt tip, fingers poised, ready to hold it up smugly when his arm flung itself over the window sill and he hauled his face and upper body towards me. I clearly didn't have the foresight to think that, being a mere three feet away from said window, I could have easily said 'hello Michael J Fox' using my mouth, but kids, hey? They're fucking stupid. Here's a list of my other loves:

- The Prince of Balance (a tightrope walker at the circus - I wrote him a letter asking him for tea (of course) and the post script was a gripping footnote about how I owned a small china rabbit with a leaf in its mouth).

- Rick Moranis (don't judge - he seemed romantic in Little Shop of Horrors)

- Pee Wee Herman (what the fuck?)

- All of the Ghostbusters

- Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, Rowan Atkinson and Tim McInnerny from Blackadder - incidentally I remember singing along to the Abba song 'One man One woman' and replacing the first phrase with 'Four Men' - I was a right slut when I was 9! But I also had superior taste in comedy, evidently. Its kind of ok to be a slut if you have a good sense of humour.
- The Tramp from Lady and the Tramp
- My cousin Thobey (this was really more of a 'he's so cool crush' but incest is not cool in any form, people)
I'd like to say my love list gets less embarrassing, but alas I am one metric fuck ton of walking humiliation, so maybe it'd be a good idea to stop here. That's enough crazy for one day.

Or is it?...

Probably, yeah. I couldn't be bothered to draw pictures so here's a photo of a bear.

Have a nice evening one and all!

No comments:

Post a Comment