grown-up fangirl

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Hello my name is Sara and I’m a grown woman fangirl. I don’t know how this happened – last month I was perfectly sane and normal, concerned about things like gas bills and work and my iphone battery life, then BAM!
The 14-year old Star Wars obsessive in me reared up like a sleeping sarlacc, like IF PLAGEIUS WASN’T REALLY DEAD AT ALL, and all of a sudden I’m right back in the thick of it all.

I’m making my fiancé watch all the movies with me every night and telling him allll the secret things that only diehard fans know. I’m frequenting a lot of Star Wars forums at 3am. I’m following @hamillhimself on Twitter, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to be best friends.

The problem is, unlike 16-year-old me, I don’t really have the time for this – I’m a bit too busy to be fangirling in my 30s. It’s 11pm and I’ve got a lot of playmobil to tidy up, my inbox is full and the cat just shat behind the fiddle leaf fig tree. I can’t really afford to waste time reading Star Wars fanfiction, however well written or saucy it may be.

Plus, it is really a bit wrong to fancy a man the same age as your father, however badass he makes it look. It’s even worse to fancy a 1970s on-screen teen – it’s all entirely inappropriate, and really, it needs to stop, right now.

I text my best friend: do you think it’s ok to take Diazepam because I’m too excited about Star Wars? She replies that her GP just gave her a fresh batch ‘seeing as it’s Christmas’, so probably yes. She also suggests my sudden Star Wars joy could actually be masking a more subtle problem, which seems to make sense, but what?

The hell of family a Christmas? Neglecting to take a single hour’s break for the last 6 months? Deep seated regrets about throwing away my childhood Luke Skywalker cutout when he got a bit tatty?
Who can really say??

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Perhaps there’s not enough space adventure in my life; the quiet domesticity I live and blog about lacks obvious thrills, but video interviews and public speaking have already stretched my comfort zone beyond its own elastic limits.

In the end I come to a simple conclusion; I’m always obsessing about something. Usually it’s work & worry & keeping on going, and in light of the Christmas break, all that nervous energy had to go somewhere else. And lucky lucky Mark Hamill, it’s all gone to him, his standout movie franchise, and his beautiful 1970s baby face.

PS – If you don’t already follow me on twitter, you’re missing the daily comedic JOY of my #meandmarkhamill tweets. For shame!

PPS – I wrote a sliiiightly more sensible something about re-watching the Star Wars trilogy for the first time with adult eyes for Standard Issue, here.