these are the days of our lives

Moments of WTF: Inception.

Aversion for media often doesn't preclude fannishness; full disclosure, I liked Leonardo DiCaprio when he was wandering around less than five miles from my house filming a movie with Johnny Depp and being method and adorable and sixteen and apparently despite crippling shyness would wave at all the ten to fourteen (ninety) year old girls who would go after school to watch filming. Trust me, that sort of thing sticks with you.

(It also helps when I watch the movie, I can identify the places: that's Wal-Mart! That's that weird house! That's that field that people do donuts in! In one single frame somewhere, you can see the edge of my school!)

Which is how I end up in messes staring at Cobb/Arthur and Cobb/Sainto going where the hell is more of this? Inception, we'd have existed in a state of suspended hostility of you'd just cast someone else as Cobb.

(It is not that Hardy isn't awesome; I am saying, Hardy was not around during the first stages of puberty. And DiCaprio at sixteen was like the most awkward teenagerness you can imagine, like he had no idea on earth he was ungodly hot and why are all these rural girls not looking at Depp?

You may have had to be there, but like, five seconds of watching him was like my entire twelve to twenty; there was connection. I'd basically forgive him murder for those moments of body language of utter wtf, puberty sucks, puberty in eighty percent humidity opposite Johnny Depp sucks so much more, it's hot, there are girls watching me, oh my God is there water, I need more water, hi girls, tent, tent, tent, makeup, more water going to die now kthx, great, time to climb a water tower it's five thousand degrees what if I have to use the bathroom?, I'm sweaty and there are girls watching me (we so didn't mind), ohh, it's METHOD!TIME.

*hands* Conditioning works, yo.)

I'm not so much ashamed as surprised that still influences me so heavily. I mean, there's a fair to good chance I watch any movie he's in based on the fact he was around at a very developmentally crucial point in my adolescence and projected about the same amount of miserable resignation combined with fragile, desperate determination to survive to drinking age that the rest of us did in band practice and cross-country training at the ungodly heat and humidity. It was a cruel yet valuable lesson; even stars had to deal with authority figures who had no souls and made you do your thing even if you kinda wanted to die. Sometimes, the fuckers chucked you under the chin, too.

Coaches and film directors have a lot in common. Who knew?

This is how I explain I really need more Cobb fic and my God, fandom, where is it?