Regression

I never idolized any musicians in my youth and was never infatuated with any celebrities. Sure, I liked New Kids on the Block. Who didn’t? (Joey!!!) But I did not scream and cry when their corny graffiti-filled, concert-shot videos were played on T.V. in between Saturday morning cartoons. I didn’t even have a t-shirt! Since I was deprived of the pure joy this can bring to a child, allow me to regress and make up for that now by saying… I heart Justin Furstenfeld.

Yes, I will be 29 in three weeks and my 9 yr. old daughter’s crush on Justin Bieber has got nothing on my Justin-crush. That is sad- yes. But I’m gonna roll with it.

I heart you Justin Furstenfeld.

I heart your insanely crooked teeth.
I heart your excessive use of guy-liner.
I heart how your weight constantly fluctuates just like me.
I heart the all-too-honest lyrics you write.
I heart your slightly goofy last name and how I feel goofier when I say it out loud.
I heart your incessant use of the F-word.
I heart that you’re a little scary, a little sweet, a little sad and a lot not-right-in the-head.
I heart your retarded mix of boy band-symphony director-mosh pit-schizophrenic-rage-dancing.
I heart that you genuinely, sincerely have a mad case of the crazy.
I heart that I get to see you perform live tomorrow night! Yaya!