I measure my life by obsessions.
That may not be the proper word, actually. It might be more truthful to say that I go through "phases." I can trace my entire life history through a diverse mix of fixations, or hobbies, or passions, or whatever you want to call them. While I'd like to say that periods of obsession make me a better person, the truth is, they really just make me look like a freak.
But a well-rounded freak, all the same...
The first identifiable period of obsession started when I was five or six. I became fixated with the idea of having long, dark hair. Since I'm naturally a blonde, that was a problem. I also sported a pixie/Peter Pan-type hairstyle when I was little, which made long dark hair even more of a problem. Impossibilities never stopped me though. I remember taking long pieces of dark fabric and clipping them to my hair. I tried to style my crushed velvet "hair" like Princess Jasmine and I pretended I was Tina from that old TV show "Ghostwriter."
The hair dream naturally segued me into my next period of obsession... Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Trini had long, dark hair, see? It makes sense. I actually revisited this obsession back in 2009, which was pretty hilarious. The 1993 obsession meant that I spent my childhood doing a lot of karate kicks, convincing my brothers to "play Power Rangers" and having save-the-world delusions of grandeur. The 2009 obsession meant that I watched all the episodes on YouTube and made the theme song my ringtone. Ah, how times change...
Other obsessions followed, but those were the biggies for my early years. I went through a Bobbsey Twins phase, and then a Sweet Valley twins obsession. I was convinced for a while that my best friend and I were twins who had been separated at birth. (What? It made sense to a second grader — her birthday was four days before mine. It could have been a really, really prolonged labor, right?) I never could quite work out whose parents were lying about the situation, though, so eventually I gave up on that theory. I read all the Baby-sitter's Club books and all of the Boxcar Children books too, which I guess could count as an obsession.
Third grade might have been the most significant year of my life, because that was when my love of history became truly solidified. I blame third grade for my almost-useless bachelor's degree. Most third graders didn't obsess about pioneers and Indians, but I did.
Utah history was the best thing ever. I made my brothers dress up like pioneers for Halloween. I read all of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books repeatedly. I wore pioneer dresses and stood outside in the weeds, because that was the sort of thing pioneers did. I wrote plays about pioneers and Indians and tried to get my dad to build me a pioneer playhouse. My favorite American Girl was Kirsten the pioneer — until I realized her name was Kirsten and not KRisten. K-ear-sten? Gross.
Many of my obsessions were built around books. "Ella Enchanted" launched a brief (but ecstatic) castle/prince/princess phase. The "Prelude to Glory" series taught me more about the American Revolution than any (and all) of my history classes combined. My American Revolution phase is why I'm naming one of my future sons Ethan. The Green Mountain Boys rock. General Arthur St. Claire became my buddy, James Madison my hero, and Friedrich Wilhelm Augustus von Steuben my Prussian rock star. A book about Anastasia launched my sixth grade czar obsession. Another book about the Titanic led to massive amounts of Titanic research.
When "The Phantom Menace" came out, I went on a hardcore Star Wars binge. I collected all the action figures, learned the names of every Jedi who ever saw even a second of screen time, and attempted to send George Lucas costume sketches for Queen Amidala. (Did you know you need zip codes to send stuff? Huh.) Since I was deeply against the Amidala/Anakin romance (it was an age difference thing) I formulated my own storyline where there wasn't a gross age gap. (What do they call Cougars in outer space anyway?) My Star Wars phase prompted me to write my first book, for which I'll always be grateful. Once I realized the new movies were terrible, I turned to the originals and learned everything from Wedge's backstory to Mon Mothma's name. (Let's face it — who else knows that?) While everyone else swooned over Hayden Christensen's uber-dull Anakin, I became an Adi Gallia fan. Super nerd alert.
My 9th/10th grade obsession was Josh Groban. My friends will remember this period — it was a doozy. I stalked him obsessively online, recorded his website sample songs from the speakers of my computer, perused his fan boards for news of his doings, pretended to like dark chocolate (like him) and began to claim that the type of car he drove was my favorite type too. (It's not, although it is one of the few types of cars I can now identify.) Josh was my first concert, which is supposedly a big milestone in a person's life. I still think he's got amazing talent, but now I'm not too blinded by his loveliness to ignore the fact that his vibrato is a tad annoying. If I ever ran into him on the street, I like to think that I'd tell him that instead of asking for an autograph...But it's totally not true...
When I went to college my roommates got sucked into my whirlwind obsessions. They endured the extended musical theater period (courtesy of a certain missionary — you know who you are). They joined me for the junior year Beatles phase, which included multiple viewings of the odd-yet-amusing "Help!" and "A Hard Day's Night." I'll never be able to hear the song, "And Your Bird Can Sing" without giggling hysterically, thanks to an outtake from the Anthology 2 album.
The roommates just laughed at me through the Tom Clancy period, but they laughed at me even more for the Kennedy period — not JFK, but RFK. I read biographies for fun and watched "Thirteen Days" repeatedly. Naturally, that led to a Stephen Culp phase, where I searched online for the few episodes of JAG where his character appeared. I emerged from this whole period with a big appreciation for Robert Kennedy, but he's the only one...
And finally, thanks to my roommate, I joined the Doctor Whoniverse right before finals on my second-to-last semester in college. It was terrible timing, but David Tennant was worth every stressful second.
There's really no rhyme or reason to the madness. One day I'll see something that tickles my fancy, and then it's all downhill from there. I'll run the obsession ragged until there's nothing left for it give, and then I'll move on. Since January of this year I've gone through a Regency England period, complete with the BBC movies, the proper music, and new book purchases. From there it swung abruptly into a "Firefly" period, where I ended up with the DVD set and spent hours watching YouTube cast appearances at nerd conventions. From there it morphed into a Disney Channel stint (shameful, I know.) (Not "Hannah Montana" or anything, but "Jonas" and "Hatching Pete" do have their charms.)
And finally, for the time being, I've landed on the movie "Taking 5" and, courtesy of the film, the band "The Click Five." The old group, not the new one so much.
Eric Dill or Joey Zehr, next time we visit my grandparents and then go to Cedar Point, consider yourselves invited to come along.
Unless, of course, I'm obsessing about something else at that point... And the odds are not in your favor.
Addendum: Silly me, I completely forgot to mention my Care Bears phase (lots of eBay purchases) my Lord of the Rings phase (a full Galadriel costume, anyone?) my Doris Day phase (which naturally led to a Gordon MacRae phase) and my multiple Scarlet Pimpernel phases (They seek him here, They seek him there...)
