It’s not High School Musical. So it’s OK. Ok?

My life is a glamouress glitzy shabang of flashiness! Totes amazeballs crazily chic! A swooping rollercoaster of a ride, dazzling me everyday with…

ROMANCE! (Husband hands me bag of near empty Bombay mix “there you go. Get your laughing tackle round that”).

MONEY! (running to the front door like a Labrador puppy when the the free newspaper plops through the letterbox “YESSSS! They put the supermarket offer supliments in this week!”).

GLAMOUR! (*climbs into bed. Finds my gel bra inserts and make up sponges shoved under pillow along with a dummy and a nappy sack* ARG! Kids going through my stuff again!).

INTRIGUE! I am a woman of a thousand disguises! (*drops Ed off at playschool to be greeted with “Hi Helen!”. Fantasizes about sticking paper rizzler stuck on my forehead with “Hannah, NOT Helen” written on it).

and CONTROVERSY! (bored with the same-old-same-old discussion at Playschool, I firmly believe one day I will carry my latest read in to Playschool,  “The Slap” by Christios Tsiolkas and refer to it as “my Bible”, just for a reaction).

Just like a film. *sigh*

So last night I went to the cinema to watch a film with the little man boy child which is Zac Efron in it. For a little bit of Hollywood escapism. And because I really fancy Zac Efron.

*Tumble weed blows past*.

It is totally OK to fancy Zac Efron and go to the cinema to shamelessly perve on him, to actively seek him out and stare at him for 2 hours, ripping open my sweets with my teeth because I can’t look down to undo them with my hands in case I miss a bit of his face and (breeeathe Hannah) this is totally not weird but is fine because of 2 reasons;

1) the film is based a serious and mature grown up adult book (So, it is for GROWN UPS and is SERIOUS. So I am told. And is written by a serious author who is serious). People die in it and cry a lot and everything. I am going to watch him, I mean, the film, because it is important that I am stretching my brain. *coughs*

2) He is over 18. *puts thumb and forefinger together bar about a centimetre*. Just.

And regardless of Zac Efron I am excited about the cinema. I think to myself “What a treat!” And am instantly depressed at how I actually think those exact words words…”What a treat“. Oh dear. I replace “What a treat!” with “What a nob“. I grumble to myself. I am a modern day Enid Blyton character. Reinforced only by me making myself a “feast pack” of fizzy pop and sugary treats to smuggle into the cinema.

MWAHAHA! In yo FACE Cinema! From one greedy stay at home mother to a greedy mother of an organisation!

Cinema food is expensive. Fact. And whilst packing my bag with my loot I and acknowledging (by refusing to pay over an acceptable amount for items I could buy cheaply elsewhere) that I have turned into my mother I had a panic…am I actually old enough to be Zac Efron’s mother?

*googles* Phew. Not really. Only maybe if I lived in South America somewhere…in the jungle…

I mean, is it Ok to fancy famous people a bit *cough* younger than you? Blokes do it all the time. I remember at Uni a friend told me there was countdown for when Emma Watson (Hermione from Harry Potter films) turned 18, which made me fairly uncomfortable at the time. Now here I am, fancying someone little and wee like Zac Efron, when I am only little and wee in height and not age and does this make me suitable to be on the panel of Loose Women?

Well, who cares? Who am I kidding? I am going anyway.

Queuing for the ticket booth I notice the film is a 12a cert. 12a?! I have a little flouncy sulk. Well there wont be any sex in this then will there?! I may as well watch the new 3d release of “Beauty and the Beast” for all the Zac Efron bum I wont see!  Two teenage girl stand behind me in the queue and start “ohmygod”ing each other…*i hug my handbag to my chest…the spotty zitty teenage girls can smell my refresher bars, I know it*.

I text the fellow perve/ friend I am meeting at the cinema;

“Shall I get your ticket too – so we can sit together?”

“Nah” she replies “it is open seating so don’t worry about it”

I get to the ticket booth. And ask for;

“One ticket to see the Zac Efron movie, please”

He looks up at me. And pointedly says

“Here you go. One ADULT ticket to see the new Zac Efron movie”.

I snatch it from him. Git.

Well, I suppose everyone is allowed their little visual favourites. The Zac Efron’s in the world make up for the Chris Packhams. Like Ying and Yang. Good and Evil. God and the DEVIL. Helena Bonham Carter and Gwyneth Paltrow.

But that’s another Blog post…I have just heard “I HAVE FINISHED!” being bellowed from the loo. Excuse me, my bum wiping skills are required. The glamour never stops.

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to It’s not High School Musical. So it’s OK. Ok?

  1. @babberblog says:

    Bahaha, you wannabe cradle snatcher ;)

    Seriously though, it’s fine, natural even. Or something. The Hermione countdown though? That was a little bit wrong.

  2. bonniecroft says:

    hannah smudge must really learn to do that himself!!!!!!!

  3. Carly says:

    I love the picture if your smuggled in goods!! X

  4. Em says:

    Don’t worry, my mother has a thing for Chad off High School Musical (maybe not just ‘a thing’ it’s proper “when I grow up I’m going to marry Chad”… Yes, she said that… ). I reckon he’s about the same age as me in that film :p

  5. Debbie says:

    That was the first chickflick I’d seen in a while (defo worth going with a fellow perv/friend than with film critic(ise to death) husband).
    OMG I think we drooled the whole way through – it was like soft porn :-P
    I later discovered he was from HSM and was soooo disappointed! I still want it on dvd ;0)

Like my blog? Leave a reply...