My Famous Lover

Supposedly James Franco is gay, and this upsets me. Why, I wonder. I love the gays, but I don’t want James Franco to be gay. This can only mean that I need him to be straight, so that we can eventually fall madly in love. There’s a lot of dashing young men who I have on hold. Each tabloid scandal proves that they’re stumbling around, searching for me.

My Famous Lover and I go way back to Prince William days, before he was bald and looked like a Republican. I would imagine walking in Hyde Park and Prince William would ride up on a horse. I would be walking two Beagles, while wearing a tweed ensemble. While all the other girls would throw themselves at him, I would play it cool. A disciple of Jane Austen, I would hide my feelings and pretend to hate him. The wedding would be epic.

This was right next to my bed.

I was twelve when this fantasy often lulled me to sleep, and that’s a perfectly normal age for such fantasies. But other twelve-year-olds thought I was going a little too far. They liked looking at him–I actually thought we were going to meet and have children. As my friend Gaby pointed out, it was as if I thought he had a really large telescope and while looking at Northern California, had fallen in love with me.

Prince William wasn’t really my first love. My ovaries first whirred into action when I saw Leonardo DiCaprio in ROMEO AND JULIET. I would buy anything with his picture, and I even found him attractive in WHAT’S EATING GILBERT GRAPE, where he plays a mentally disabled character. It didn’t seem to bother me that he essentially looked like a little girl. Maybe his girlish looks made him seem non-threatening. Or maybe it was just a case of raging hormones.

My dream boy.

Whatever it was, it certainly had a hold of me. I remember sitting on the toilet at lunch break in 6th grade, crying because Leo had no idea who I was and how much I loved him. I just wanted to know what he was doing and thinking. When we would visit Los Angeles to see my grandmother, I would spend the whole time nervous. What if we bumped into him? I was notoriously bad at hiding my crushes. Around normal boys I would speak intelligibly at the speed of light, trying so desperately to appear nonchalant that instead I seemed feverish. What would happen when I encountered a sex god? I would probably die.

Always was a sucker for a good brood.

TITANIC killed my fervor for Leo. The adolescent passion thrown at him by every tween cheapened my serious feelings. After Leo, there was James Dean and Marlon Brando, who were safely dead and obese, respectively. My religious romantic zeal faded.

When I moved to LA, I thought I was immune to my Famous Lover. Then I saw Him, not Leo, another Him, but still it was Him, JGL, or Joseph Gordon Levitt as he’s more commonly known. There I was having brunch with my girlfriends when I saw a cute brooding boy across the room. We had a moment. It wasn’t until he was leaving the restaurant that I realized who he was. That’s probably when I knew it was love.

He doesn't want her. He wants me.

After the JGL sighting, I was particularly attuned to all JGL news. I read an interview with him, and he announced that he’s not attracted to women who are attracted to fame. Oh. Maybe he isn’t in love with me. But I’m not attracted to him just because of the fame. He’s also an incredibly talented actor…I’m attracted to talent. Whatever, I don’t feel like psychoanalyzing my attraction to the JGL.

Besides, there was something there before I noticed who he was, before fame came into the equation. I thought about putting out a missed connection. Wisely, my friends talked me down. Once you get the internet involved, you’re just a hair away from becoming a stalker (unless you’re writing a self-conscious blog about almost becoming a stalker). Also, how was I going to prove that I’m not attracted to fame. How was I going to prove that to JGL and more importantly myself?

Even now, I’m hoping that James Franco will read this. He’ll find my post in a Google search because he’s keeping track of everything written about him for a performance art piece about his celebrity (I kid you not). So he’ll read this post, and he’ll fall madly in love. He’ll be attracted to my talent…

1 Comment

  1. katherine says:

    AB FAB!

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