I’m in love with Jamie Lee Curtis. Everybody who knows me knows about my Jamie Lee fantasy. On my wedding day I told Saxon that I would stay with her forever. Unless Jamie Lee asks me out. Then all bets are off.
Yes, I know Jamie Lee is married. To a man. To Christopher Guest who is a freakin’ comedic genius and who I admire very much. Still… If Jamie Lee would have me, I would gladly run Mr. Guest over with a Peterbilt truck and take his wife home with me.
Jamie Lee and I have crossed paths before. One sunny day I was walking with friends in Santa Monica on Montana Avenue when I saw her. Montana Avenue is a high-end, frou-frou type of place. A place where this cowgirl felt waaaay out of her league. However, there I was walking down the street when I spied Jamie Lee standing at a bus bench hawking jewelry. I stopped and listened to her as she explained to passer-bys that the jewelry had been made by her daughter. It was a collection of brooches, necklaces and bracelets all made from sea glass that her daughter had found on the beach.
The sea glass jewelry was spread out over a bus bench. I picked up a brooch. Not because I liked it so much but because I wanted to find a reason to stand in the orbit of Jamie Lee. She saw me and smiled. I stupidly said, “I saw you on the Golden Globes. You were great. Congratulations.” (She had just won for the movie True Lies a few days before.)
“Thanks,” she said. “Do you like that brooch?”
“Let me pin it on you,” she said.
“Okay,” I said.
She stepped in close to me and pinned it on my shirt. She’s only a couple inches shorter than me and I found myself inhaling her smell and getting rather weak in the knees.
“There,” she said. “It looks great on you.”
“I’ll buy it on one condition,” I said.
“Will you kiss it? I want to be able to tell everybody your lips were on it.”
She laughed then said, “I’ll do better than that.” She leaned in and licked the brooch. Which was pinned on my shirt right above my left boob. I damn near fainted.
The brooch only cost five dollars, but I gave her ten. I think I would have gladly given her anything at that point.
Fast forward two years: I had bought my first house in Los Angeles. It was on top of Mt. Washington, located between downtown L.A. and Pasadena. I was in the market to buy an electric gate for my driveway when I ran across a deal I couldn’t pass up. The man at the electric gate store told me he had a gate for half-price. He had made it special for Jamie Lee Curtis, but she had changed her mind at the last minute and gone with another design. I bought and paid for the gate that very day.
There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t open that gate and think of Jamie Lee. (Hey, this would make a good metaphor, don’t you think?)
So you can see why I still harbor the small hope that Jamie Lee’s path will once again cross mine. Our destinies are interlinked.
I will always love Jamie Lee. I don’t care if she has intestinal problems and has to eat Activa yogurt. I don’t care if she sells more books than I do. I don’t care if she sleeps with her husband. I still am head over heels in love with Jamie Lee.
She can lick my brooch any day.