"The only thing that ever made sense to me was you, and how I felt about you. That's all I've ever known and [...] that's enough for me, for the rest of my life. Topanga (Lacey), we gonna get married?"*

            There used to be a framed photo of Ben Savage from his Boy Meets World days sitting on my nightstand. I don’t know how it got there, but there it was. (I cut it out of Tiger Beat and put it in a frame I bought at Target, that’s how.) It looked a lot like this, though I couldn’t find an the exact photo.

            I was truly, madly, deeply in love with Ben Savage (or maybe Cory Matthews, the character he played, it was unclear even to me), and I would spend hours analyzing each episode of the show with my friend Lissy. We (I) would tape the episode then she’d come over for a sleepover and we’d watch it together over and over. Sometimes 4 or 5 times in one evening. Then we’d make a big old bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, get some spoons and discuss everything that had happened that week.
    
      We were both convinced that Topanga (Cory’s girlfriend) was a bitch, that much was clear, but we were undecided on whether or not Ben was actually as great as Cory in real life. But who could act that well? He had to be the cutest, cleverest, most humorous boy in the world, and if I could just get myself out to Hollywood, I’d soon be a member of the cast of Boy Meets World and the writers could begin phasing Topanga’s character out and adding me in her place. Maybe my name could be Veronica or Cassandra or something else that ended in an “a,” so people wouldn’t miss Topanga too much. But I didn’t think that would be necessary since she was so lame anyway. All wrong for Cory. I mean, Ben.

            There were times over those Ben-crazed years when I’d devote hours of my day to figuring out plotlines that could somehow legitimately involve me as the newest cast member. I pictured how my romantic relationship with Ben would evolve naturally out of our mutual professional respect for one another. And then we’d walk off into high school together and live happily ever after.

            Obviously, I don’t have feelings for Ben Savage anymore. I mean, I’ve checked his imdb.com page a few times, just to see what he’s been up to (got a degree in Political Science from Stanford, unmarried) and if he’s still working as an actor (yeah, a few guest stars here and there).

            But I’m much too mature to start having a crush on some celebrity I don’t even know, let alone frame a magazine photo of said celebrity and put it on my nightstand.

            But the other night I was watching Doc Martin at my parents’ house and noticed that Chris O’Dowd (the cute, Irish cop from Bridesmaids, which I had just watched the day before) was in an episode. I didn’t have anything else to do so I started looking him up on Google. I read about his life, I looked at pictures, I did some research into whether or not he was married or seeing anybody. And then I looked at pictures and articles of the woman he is seeing (some English journalist named Dawn Porter), I compared myself physically and fiscally with Dawn Porter, and I finally looked up and realized I had missed 90% of the episode of Doc Martin. (And that was kind of a shame because Chris was turning in a tour de force performance as a schizophrenic trying to smuggle explosives from Spanish pirates.)

Chris O'Dowd.

            What’s the message in all this? Am I reverting to adolescence? I am destined to become a psychopathic stalker somewhere down the line? Am I a psychopathic stalker already?

            I was further embarrassed when I found myself talking about Chris O’Dowd to my friend Gabe on the phone. I was making it sound like I actually knew the guy and that he and I were friends and we might maybe start dating someday. I think Gabe and I both felt a little sad for me at that point.

            So I think the solution might be that I need to get out of the house more and abuse the Interweb less (“she said as she typed a blog entry”). And maybe start pursuing my human relationships a little more consistently. And maybe stop advertising my psychoses online for all the world to see (Ben and Chris: if you’re reading this, I’m not really a psycho! Facebook me! Let's hang out!).

            And maybe making that photo of Chris my new screensaver wasn’t such a hot idea either…

*Quote from Boy Meets World. I altered it a little bit.