Ah, but see, if you have an embarassingly huge crush on Tim, you're a better woman than I. Given my embarassingly huge, huge crush on Alan, I certainly can't be expected to say hello, or not throw up.

This is perhaps why I only date people I can't stand.

Hmmm, Allyson, that seems a bad pattern. Maybe you need to try dating people you like but aren't violently attracted to, you know, rather than the whole "can't stand" option.

But -- how fun and you got to see the teaser, right?

I do have an embarrassingly huge crush on Tim. And since I know that within 30 seconds I would say something stupid or giggle, I chose to run.

Aw, that's so cute. I understand. You are braver than I, then, for I canna say hello to Alan. I just want to make Tim some macaroni and cheese and give him a root beer and kiss his cutiehead cheek.

I want to do naughty things to Alan, and am therefore embarassed and want to hide my naughty self behind a tree and pretend neither of us exist.

I can say nothing about macaroni and cheese and rootbeer. It would be wrong.

Hmm, my run and hide reflex is completely opposite. I can barely get coherent words out to people I really admire like Ray Bourque or Joss (thankfully exposure to Tim here on an even footing negated that reaction in his case), but no level of hotness is sufficient to fluster me. I can joke around with celebrity crushes like DB as if we were old friends.

I want to do naughty things to Alan, and am therefore embarassed and want to hide my naughty self behind a tree and pretend neither of us exist.

I had that same reaction to one of my old big SUPER (not really celebrity) crushes--Mike Doughty formerly of Soul Coughing. My friend was working for them while they were touring a couple of years ago so I had the chance to hang out with them for a while. I was sitting on a hotel room bed and he was in the chair next to the bed and I couldn't even look at him! I had no trouble at all at all shooting the shit with everyone else in the band (and they were all very cool and funny, etc.). I was so relieved when Doughty left the room. I told my friend after about how bad I was dying with him sitting right there and she laughed and laughed at me.

Oh and, not a crush exactly, but when I first saw John Waters going about his business here in Baltimore--buying a newspaper at the Giant--I started giggling uncontrolably and had to hide in the produce aisle.

I'm the uncoolest!

nods.

I am all admiration for Matt's ability to be cool with celebrity crushes.

recalls meeting Michael Palin at aged 16. winces. winces some more.

Picture the scene - one of the Oxford colleges, fine weather, my friends and I standing under an archway. We are checking out Oxford with a view to applying. (I will go on to pass the entrance exam with flying colours and fuck up the interview utterly through doing my very best impression of a terrified and stammering bimbo whilst a fierce scholar says "Plough down sillion shines!" repeatedly, and I fail to say coolly "Ah, sillion, it's an anglo saxon word, of course, now let me ramble on about how much Hopkins was influence by Anglo Saxon poetry, what with you being an Anglo Saxon expert and me having just said, quite honestly, that Hopkins is one of my favourite poets". But I digress.) Aaaaanyway. There we are, chatting about how Michael Palin's filming somewhere RIGHT NOW, possibly even in this college. And I glance over my shoulder for no good reason and my jaw drops and all my cool flees and I gape as Mr Palin strides adorably towards my oblivious friends and I, his robes billowing out behind him. I continue to gape. He smiles at me and says 'Good morning' and I continue to gape, as do my friends, who have now spotted him. We watch him walk away. Eventually I remember how to operate my mouth and say "....hi!" to his retreating back.

sigh

(I did manage to bump into him later in the day, and stammeringly asked for his autograph. I then went redder and redder and redder as my pen failed to write, and he gamely made quips and asked where I was from and was very sweet about the fact that he's from Sheffield and I'm from Barnsley and there we both were in Oxford, small world, yadayada, charm charm. Bless.)

One thing is clear after seeing the Serenity trailer at Comic Con.

I am NO Jeff Mejia.

I remember two things very distinctively, though. One I forced myself to remember because I had to act it out for ita, which I hope to do soon.

Mal and Zoe peering into a wall safe of some sort. The camera perspective is from the inside of the safe looking out at them, and a pile of money inside the safe.

Zoe deadpans, and I'm paraphrasing because I'm no Mejia as clearly stated above, "We can finally give up this life of crime." Total deadpan. Total sarcasm, and extraordinary Zoe. I missed her so much I could have wept. That passed, because I was hot and annoyed.

The second thing was River, either stuck to the floor or the ceiling, who knows, it's River, desperate, terror-echo-whisper...Reavers...

And then nothing. From the trailer, the cast is just juicy.

Sigh.

Can't wait to see the real trailer and then the real movie myself.

(Too bad I cannot spell. I blame the humidity. Yeah -- that's right -- it's all the freaking dampness in the air.)