Do You Have A List?
Reading a passage from Dooce the other day, I found out that Heather has a list.
You can wander over there to see what she calls her list. The contents of it, and the rules governing it are intriguing.
Heather says that if two people are in a committed relationship, then they may each keep a list of five people that they would like to sleep with, the qualifier being that you don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of ever meeting these individuals.
Fun stuff. Except, um, I don’t have one.
Part of it is down to the fact that, as cliche as it sounds, I only have eyes for my fella. The other part is that I lost my fascination for celebrities years ago, when I determined that they are merely people like myself who have jobs that are a little more public than mine and have to put up with cameras in their faces all the time.. As nice as they might be to look at, that pretty illusion is often shattered as soon as they open their mouths. Even if they’re articulate, I just don’t see the point. They’re just people. Faces in the crowd.
Having said that, I have to admit a long, long-standing (and Ray is well aware of this) admiration for Kevin Newman. The man has it all: Intelligence, a great sense of humour, a certain kind of grounded sense of humility that makes him infinitely accessible, and he looks good too. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to sleep with him. My Kevin Newman fantasy involves having a beer or three with the man and talking about the state of the world. I would do more listening than talking, for fear of sounding like an idiot, but there it is. That is my fantasy.
I blame my mother. She raised me to be a good girl. Damn her anyway.
