Lord knows I ♥ boys. But...

At the moment, Robert Pattison and Zac Efron are aces in my book. (And no, sadly I am far from my tween years.) My crushes on boys (including the boys I actually know, the ones I don’t, and the ones I hope to know someday ☺) come and go like the changing of the seasons. Instead, it’s been my (non-sexually driven) girl crushes that make like an old Cranberries song and “linger,” on and on. (That song reference alone should be a good portent of my real age.)

From second to fifth grade, my super girl crush was on the perfect, tiny and angelic Kristen Coco. She was the smallest girl in the class, with blonde baby-angel hair, and therefore could pull off pretending to be a newborn bunny infinitely better than I could. And- she had a television in HER BEDROOM, on which she could watch “The Little Mermaid” tape (that she had gotten for her birthday), whenever she wanted! I used to yearn that someday my life could be as perfect as hers.

Then, as I got older, my admirations drifted from pretending to be a baby animal, to a mix of sass and gore… which could only lead me to Sarah Michelle Gellar.

Oh, Sarah Michelle.

How I love thee. No one will ever be able to kick ass with the aplomb and style which she did. She dated the cutest boys, always had the perfect quip, wasn’t afraid of anything, lived in a world where vampires were real (God! Why couldn't she have met Edward Cullens?!), and went through everything with the most perfect head of hair. While I will love Sarah Michelle (and any/everything she touches- “The Grudge”, anything Joss Whedon related, her taste in aesthetics, her hottie hot husband Freddie Prinze Jr… sigh. Her’s is a gifted existence, for sure) until my dying day- my new super-duper girl crush outshines even the space in my heart permanently engraved “S.M.G. 4-eva”…

My current girl crush surpasses any infatuation experienced before. (And, I haven’t even mentioned the longest running girl-crush possible [for me], but I am hesitant to open that can of psychological worms and actually admit that I’ve been obsessed [literally, since my day one] with my mother. Oh. Oops. The latter day version of Freud needs to come around and coin the term for a daughter version of the “Oedipus complex,” except… I don’t want to marry my mom. Ew! I just want to be exactly, exactly like her. Which actually serves as an excellent segue to the revealing of my new #1 gal…)

Like my mother, she’s tall. Like my mother, I want to be like her in a wide variety of realistic ways. Like Sarah Michelle, she kicks ass with amazing style, and like Kristin Coco, she has a pretty cool bedroom. (A picture of her “closet” is currently my computer’s wall-paper. I’m hoping there is some truth behind the good fortune that can come from the presence of an “inspiration board,” as recommended from such classics as Oprah’s touted book “The Secret” and the sophisticated sitcom “Always Sunny in Philadelphia”? )

Like all of my girl crushes, she inspires me tremendously. And maybe, like with the others, I kind of want to be her?

At this point, you’re probably wondering to yourself—“ok… how the heck does this tie into the environment?” Or, “If she says her new crush is on Mother Earth, I am out of here!” If you’re thinking anything along these lines- fair enough. However, despite my love for Rob and Zac, I don’t think I’m that cheesy…?

In an attempt to coherently draw together the strange synapses that make up my thought process, I’d like to share something someone famous said a long time ago. I’m paraphrasing this, but essentially whoever this sage was, said that in order to be successful, you need to take two steps.

1. Identify what you love.
2. Figure out a way to make money doing #1.

Can it be that easy? While I don’t want to “do” my new girl crush in the biblical sense, I am cooking up ideas inspired by this recommended plan of action, and her. (Sounds so romantic. It’s not?)

Her identity, and my plots, will be revealed later. In the meantime, please feast your eyes on my inspiration for today: her closet. (Please imagine a choir of angels and pre-pubscent boys singing now.)