Mad about the boy

Photos from http://everglowmedia.net but rights belonging to Summit Entertainment

Mad about the boy
I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy
I'm so ashamed of it but must admit the sleepless nights I've had
About the boy

On the silverscreen
He melts my foolish heart in every single scene
Although I'm quite aware that here and there are traces of the cad
About the boy

Lord knows I'm not a fool girl
I really shouldn't care
Lord knows I'm not a school girl
In the flurry of her first affair

Will it ever cloy
This odd diversity of misery and joy
I'm feeling quite insane and young again
And all because I'm mad about the boy

So if I could employ
A little magic that will finally destroy
This dream that pains me and enchains me
But I can't because I'm mad...
I'm mad about the boy

Lyrics: Noel Coward

I admit it: I am mad about the boy.


My dear circle Sister Elle posted the picture to the right on Facebook and, well, I was floored. The more I look at it, the more it draws me in. And it's not even like I think Rob Pattinson's that goodlooking. So "the boy" is of course Rob-as-Edward. And I am crazy about him in a totally inexplicable way.

As far as men go, in general, I don't prefer them, but who can resist a beautiful man? Beauty is beauty, and a thing of beauty is a joy forever. What I find beautiful in a man is usually features that belong to the younger, perhaps slightly androgynous-looking men. Not quite the manly-man, the macho guy corrupted by circumstance and expectation, but not quite a boy either. Gorgeous, divinely beautiful boy-men. Not necessarily the obvious alpha male, but with a strong energy.


As I young girl, I didn't particularly notice the beauty in the young men around me, but now - at the ripe old age of 35 - I do. And it's really quite a non-sexual thing. It's more... aesthetic.

When I think of the words "mad about the boy", I think of the movie/musical Sunset Boulevard, where old movie star Norma Desmond gives her toy-boy, the young hack Joe Gillis, a bracelet with that very inscription, but I was sure I'd heard the words somewhere else, perhaps in a song.

And yes, I had. It's an old Noel Coward song (Dinah Washington's version is great), and as for the lyrics - could they be more accurate?


I'm mad about the boy