Love Actually

I have a small confession to share, something I need to rid myself of in order to take one more step into my future. I need to wipe my proverbial slate clean. To do it, I must tell you--

I am in love with Colin Firth. And I think he's ruined me for anyone else. Forever.

Sure, on the outside I'm a plain-looking girl with all semblance of sanity and reason. I eat my veggies, run a few times a week and even pay my bills on time (occasionally). But deep inside this realist lurks a desperate, foolish fourteen-year-old who can't seem to shake off her love for Colin. I'm not nutso about him. I don't have my own Colin Firth Web site and I haven't joined his fan club. But when I see his movies, or look at photos of him, I'm overcome with this rush of estrogen, as though I've just found the love of my life.

It all started quite simply about three years ago. My roommate and I didn't know what to do with our Friday night, so we headed to the cheap movie theater to see what was playing. We decided on "Bridget Jones' Diary," and by the end, my heart was his. Like water to the Wicked Witch of the West, his intelligence, wit, smooth demeanor and easy good looks were my undoing. When the movie came out on video, I rented it and watched it every night for 10 days. Eventually, I just fast-forwarded to the good parts. Then I had to return the tape and I was in absolute agony. (Until it was on pay-per-view, then I was set again.) He was like a drug I couldn't get enough of. I'd keep taking hits of him, over and over again. But I never seemed to overdose.

At one point, I put some distance between myself and all things Colin Firth. I stopped watching Bridget Jones' Diary every night and slowly began to recover. For about two years, I was able to imagine that someday I might love someone else as much as I loved Colin Firth.

It all unraveled yesterday. Yesterday I watched "Love Actually," and I'm ruined again. I watched his scenes twice. (I love DVDs!) I pictured myself speaking Portuguese to him in a shabby French cottage. From now on, the hero of every book I read will look like him. Every male character I create will secretly be modeled after him. Every date or potential date will be mentally stacked up against Colin. And he will lose. (The date, that is.)

I don't think I ever want to meet Colin or see him in person. I'm content with the idea of him. And the idea of him has ruined me for other men, possibly forever. Unless, of course, he has a twin brother.

Therein lies my salvation.

Lunch

The sun beats down on my pale, pasty skin in a welcome rush of warmth. Off in the distance, cargo ships flirt with falling off the Earth where the ocean meets the sky. My perfectly polished toes trace circles in the sand while a cool drink filled with tropical, fruity goodness sweats delicately in my warm hand. I look over my sunglasses at the chair next to mine, where a cute guy I think I might know picks up a beer and smiles at me with a gleam in his eye. Playing coy, I return to the book lying neglected in my lap. It's perfect. It's paradise, it's nearly Hea...

The sun disappears, replaced with air conditioning so cold my ugly toes have nearly frozen off. The cute guy beside me turns into an older gentleman pounding out news on a computer. That tropical drink dissolves into warm gingerale and my boss stands where the ocean used to be, pointing out my latest professional failure.

And just like that, lunch is over.

Weird Page Name, Huh?

You read "defying gravity" and you probably think "skydiver! daredevil! a real thrill lover!"

Ha!

"Defying gravity" actually comes from a song in Steven Schwartz's musical, "Wicked." It's all about making your own path through life and not being confined and limited by someone else's rules. It's about taking the chance to be yourself and embracing the person you become in the process. This blog, this scary piece of technology I'm still iffy about, is my shot at defying gravity.

Watch out (cyber)world! Susie has a blog!