...one woman's 25 year quest to share a pint with the man who would be king.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Getting chummy with mum.

So I figured it would be a very good thing if I were to get to know the man from the one person who knew him from the beginning...his mom.  They say (well, really "I say") that if you get in with the mom you can find out a terrible lot about the boy.  I intend to.  So I tried to come up with a few questions I might ask her...if given the lucky chance to sit down with her and have a chat.

*  "What were his favorite foods as a young boy?"  (This is highly important because you don't want to prepare a meal for the man and have him gag, or worse yet, cause him to have an allergic reaction to some unknown ingredient.  But since I prepare all my meals with love...okay.  now I'm gagging.)

*  "We all played board games in the 60's.  What was his favorite and which one was he best at?"  (I certainly hope it wasn't "Password" as I would have to kick his ass on that game!)

*  "Was he an early riser?"  (This is highly important because you simply can't sleep with someone if they are never in the bed when you are!  Not that I was thinking...dreaming...of sleeping with him.  No sir.  wink wink.  nudge nudge. say no more.)

*  "Back to the foodie thing:  Does he have a sweet tooth?"  (This is highly important because if he doesn't like chocolate, I think I would just die of disappointment.)

*  "Did he ever do unauthorized science experiments with your household items?"  (I just need to make sure he doesn't still want to blow up things.  You know; safely issues and all.)

*  "What did he really want to be when he grew up?"  (This might not be important...or pertinent.  Now he just gets to play at everything he wanted to be.  Lucky bastard.  You win again, Colin.)

*  "Was he ever attracted to the 'green eyed girl next door with honey amber hair type'?"  (Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.)

I have a zillion other questions but I want to save some for when (not if) I get to sit down with Colin over a nice built guinness.  Enough said for now (said the 'green eyed girl next door with honey amber hair').

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Stalk this.

As promised, here is a small list of demands (ummm, REASONS) why I am not a stalker:

1.   I am married...to a Sgt. in the Sheriff's Department....and he's big...and his deputies would kick my ass. :)
2.   Colin is married...to someone who is the total opposite of everything that is me.  (tall, beautiful, thin, Italian, dark, rich, famous....Jesus, people!  Do I need to go on because I'm seriously depressing myself.)
3.   I live in the United States.
4.   Colin lives in England...AND Italy.  Lucky bastard.
5.   Colin is tall, beautiful, thin, British, dark, rich, famous...Once again, people, I am none of those things.
6.   I don't comb the internet for any news of Colin...well at least not night and day.  To me, that would definitely show signs of "stalkism".   And frankly, I don't have the time.  I have 3 teenagers still at home.  Enough said.
7.   I don't have posters of Colin tacked all over my bedroom wall  (another sign, I believe, of being a true stalker...or at least a brilliant interior designer.)
8.   I don't live in my mother's basement.
9.   I've actually met Colin...on three different occasions....and I DID NOT throw myself at him, chain myself to his ankles, handcuff our wrists together (all brilliant ideas).  Instead, I waited patiently for him to shake my hand, put his arm around me, chat with me, take a photograph with me, and then slowly walk away in order to attend some function or another (wait colin....don't walk away yet...you smelled so wonderful....and i don't care about your fame...you looked a bit tired...you need a vacation....with me.)  What??  You silly demons.  Get out of my head.  You are making me look bad.  :)
10.   I am me.  Just me.  If you know me....or meet me...you will see that I'm just the "girl next door" type and probably the farthest type of woman that Colin might ever notice.  So he is safe.  No need to alert the authorities.


Tuesday, July 19, 2011

And so it begins...

This blog is for me.  This project was for me.  It is just a diary of the moments in the past 25 years that I've spent trying to convince people that Colin was amazing.  Pre-Bridget Jones...Pre-Pride & Prejudice...Pre-Oscar.

Although the picture on my side-bar suggests I finally met the man, the myth, the legend;  it is only a small step to actually achieving my goal of sitting down and sharing a laugh and a pint with someone I've known longer than either of my husbands!

I will not be soliciting followers.  I will probably not tell anyone I am writing this.  My friends and family tease me.  My children call me a "stalker".  So my next post will be a list of reasons why that is not so.  Why my middle name should be "sweet and harmless".  Why this seems the sanest project in the world.

God, I truly hope no one ever reads this.

Once upon a time...

A very long time ago (over 25 years), I lived in Germany on an army base.  Somewhere during that time, I saw a movie with a very young Colin Firth.  No one knew who he was.  He was just a kid.  I was just a kid.  But he appealed to me.  There was just something that made me stop and think that this guy had a spark.  This guy had some internal "something" that spoke to me.  It helped that I also thought he was extremely cute in a boy-next-door sort of way.  I was hooked.  It was fate...or insanity.  But Cupid's arrow had struck it's mark and I could not tear it out from my heart anytime soon.

Several years passed and I returned to the States.  But I could not forget the boy I saw.  I could not forget the boy who had stolen a piece of me.  He would never know the mark he had left on my heart.  I would have to throw the dream of meeting him out to the cosmos and hope someday the gods would shine upon me.

And so my project began....25 years ago....to spread the word.   First to family and then to anyone who would listen to me.   "Have you heard of this young actor, Colin Firth?"  No one had.  No one listened.  No one cared.

Except me.