Like many of you, I felt as though my childhood finally ended on Friday. No, I didn't lose my virginity, learn how to ride a bike or drink my first Jägerbomb. The last vestige of my youth took the form of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2" (2011). Forking over 15 bucks for that eighth DVD was like shoving a basilisk fang right into the final Horcrux of my childhood. Bummer. Now all I have to look forward to is adulthood — 401Ks, jury duty and colonoscopies.
Rewatching the movie naturally rekindled my amorous feelings for Emma Watson. Ever since "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" (2004), I've been in love. Maybe it's her hazel eyes, or, more likely, her mastery of the levitating spell — "It's Levi−OH−sa, not Levi−oh−SA." Regardless, my 14−year−old self was smitten. None of the girls at my middle school — sorry, Mary Holbrook, not even you — could compare to her.
We all have Hollywood crushes, especially when we're younger. Girls, too — one of my cousins planned on marrying Johnny Depp. Nowadays, it seems that most teenaged girls are obsessed with the men of the "Twilight" series. I don't know about you, ladies, but my money is on Team Edward. He beats the crap out of Jacob in every category. Not only can the guy actually string multi−syllabic words together, but he also has way better hair. Case closed.
And then there's the whole man−crush scenario. Actors like Ryan Gosling and Paul Rudd fit this category. I may like ladies, but I would give my left baby toe for a night of G−rated platonic revelry with either of these guys.
My first Hollywood crush was the voluptuous Jessica Rabbit from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" (1988). Dressed in a form−fitting red sequined dress, Jessica Rabbit was the ultimate pre−pubescentsex−symbol. Yes, she was a cartoon, but love doesn't discriminate — particularly when you're five years old. The only thing that confused me was her marriage to the film's eponymous character. Anthropomorphized though he may be, Roger seemed like an odd husband, not because he spoke with a lisp, but because he was a freaking rabbit! Bestiality is wrong, even when it involves cartoon characters.
The documentary "My Date with Drew" (2004) deals specifically with the idea of Hollywood crushes. The film chronicles one man (Brian Herzlinger) as he attempts to fulfill his childhood dream of taking Drew Barrymore on a date. Watching 28−year−oldHerzlinger speak to the camera about his fond memories of Barrymore's cherubic role in "E.T.: the Extra Terrestrial" (1982) straddles the line between adorably sweet and creepily obsessive. But I imagine that's how we all sound. As viewers, we are voyeurs, watching strangers perform for our fetishistic indulgences. Can any of us really think we know these actresses because of their work? I think not.
As a sophomore, I visited my friend who goes to school at Brown University. As we were walking through the quad, I noticed an attractive, pony−tailed student walking in our direction. Oh my god, I thought. My throat tightened, and heart's palpitations began to sound like dubstep. My entire pubescence amounted to this one chance interaction. Don't blow it, I told myself.
She glanced at me and gave me a friendly smile. I tried to smile back, but probably just peed myself instead. I realized then that I could never be with her; I'd only see her as Emma Watson the blindingly stunning movie star, not as an actual person.
Bummer, I know. But there's hope! I read in Entertainment Weekly that ZooeyDeschanel just filed for divorce. Between her and Kim Kardashian, I might actually stand a chance.
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Chris Poldoian is a senior majoring in Spanish and economics. He can be reached at Chrisopher.Poldoian@tufts.edu.
