Some Valentine’s Day announcements:
1. Free shipping on all orders through Valentine’s Day! Time to gift yourself or your favorite crush with superhero ware.
2. Passion is back for all of you lovers of red and pink!
3. It’s time for the 2nd Annual Superhero Valentine’s Day contest! The theme this year is THE CRUSH.
Email me at email@example.com with a short story about a wild crush in your life. Childhood crushes, celebrity crushes, stories of the crazy things we do for the crush. We want your crush stories!
Entries must be received by Tuesday, February 8th.
Three of our favorite stories will be selected to receive Superhero Gift Certificates of $25 each. Woo hoo! Favorites will also be published on the site so we can all be inspired by your crush stories. Fame and fortune will be yours!
Celebrity Judges will be:
SARK – best-selling author, artist, most inspiring person
Laurie Wagner – writer, teacher, word-wrangler extraordinaire
Matthew Passmore – artist, builder of libraries in the desert, dear husband of mine
Story about desert library to come this week on the Superhero Journal.
and Maya Stein– writer, maker of dioramas, and cutter of hair
And a crush story from yours truly:
When I first moved to San Francisco 10 years ago, I had a crush on a boy who worked at Noah’s Bagels. I passed by there every morning and looked for him, but was too shy to even ask his name. To my friends, he was affectionately referred to as “bagel boy.”
One night, in a moment of inspiration, I remembered the old bagel that was drying out in my fridge. I leapt out of bed, grabbed the nearest Sharpie, and wrote my name and phone number on the smooth side of the bagel. I grinned, amused at my bold plan, and went back to sleep.
The next morning, my heart beat frantically in my chest as I rode the bus to Fillmore Street. When I got to the front of the line, he smiled and asked the usual, “What can I get for you?”
I replied, “Actually, I have something for you today.”
And set down the small paper sack on the counter.
Then I sprinted out of the store.
He called the next day.
What are your crush stories?
That is a fantastic photo!
And I love your crush story. Girl, that was a brilliant move!
When I think about my old crushes, I can’t help but cringe. I met my husband online, so with him, it wasn’t my typical awkward/painful crush experience.
Amazing how some of the most creative thoughts come to us somewhere between bedtime and the next morning; very bold, bravo! And was the “romance” as spicy as the intro?
not at all.
But Andrea did learn to woo men with paint chip colors, which turned out to be a most effective mode of courtship, in my experience.
fantastic. that has all the makings of a film…perhaps starring meg ryan. have you suggested it to hollywood yet?
It’s true ~ I too can see your crush story as a movie.
“The Bagel Encounter” perhaps?
What a rocking way to celebrate the Day of Cupid and Love. 😀
Love and laughter,
and ridiculously blushy crushes,
PS ~ I had a crush on Astroboy.
I even cut my barbie’s hair off to call her Astroboy.
(Astroboy is a 70’s ish Japanese cartoon boy with rockets in his legs 🙂
Divine photo btw ~
really depicts what love is all about ~
togetherness, warmth, feeling all blurry
that is so amazingly cute…too bad my crush works at an aquarium…in georgia…can’t exactly write on and mail a live fish…although it could get pretty creative 🙂
I’m intrigued. Tell us the paint chip story.
Um, I used to have a pretty big crush on a girl, when we were like 15 or something… and a group of us all went to a haunted house for halloween. While I was getting out of the car from the back and talking to someone, the person on the driver side shut the door by banging into it, closing it on my finger. Without thinking I ripped it back, basically tearing everything up something terrible.
Now this was a haunted house in the country, the middle of nowhere, and it was dark… and for some reason I certainly didn’t want to go drawing attention to myself in front of _her_ as being the guy who got his finger slammed in the door and somehow ruined all the fine. So… I ignored it. There weren’t exactly street lights, but there were long lines, but since it was dark it wasn’t obvious I was bleeding like a stuck pig. So I was trying to do everything to get it to stop without drawing too much attention to myself. Holding my hand behind me, etc. I remember that well because I remember the sound of the droplets hitting the leaves and having to move my feet to sort of cover for the sound and pressing it against my jeans because even at that stupid age I knew pressure would stop the bleeding theoretically. I really don’t know what I was thinking.
It didn’t feel good, and then weirdly enough my fingers and a good chunk of the hand went fairly numb… and then we were into the haunted house, and much laughter occurred, and much of that thing girls do when they say “whatever you do, don’t let go” and then start beating on you when you hold them and they’re trying to run down the hallway… and then they ask you why you let them the hell go.
Anyways, crisis was averted for that evening… people were going to go do something else, since it was Saturday and all, but I begged off with some excuse, ran straight home and got the insurance card and headed to med point. I won’t mention the details of what happened there, but the doctor seemed to enjoy swearing at me, and he wasn’t impressed by my excuse of “but she was there…”. Parents were pretty unamused also, as I recall… but still, crisis seemed to be averted by just going through a little pain.
Till the next day, at church, when Her mom comes down to the teen room (this was LONG ago) and asks if she can see me, which was odd because while her dad and sister came to church, her mom sure as hell never did, which I was envious of… so there we are in the hallway, and she unfolds her daughter’s nice white sweater and asks if I’d like to explain myself. There were nice and big bloody handprints all over, including some areas that, later, caused me to curse the fact that my hand had gone numb. It was entirely unamusing.
I had a crush on a cop. Not just any cop, a small town redneck emotionally unavailable cop. Perhaps I was seeking true yin yang, or opposites, but it was more like oil and water. I would stay out every night knowing He’d enter a particular bar by midnight and once he arrived I’d drink a beer or two very fast to get up the nerve to be near him. He had smooth shoulder length hair and the locals adored him. The conversations were rather mono…well simple, uh, single words and grunts.
I ended up kissing him for a very long time on a hard cold floor in someone’s house. I decided it was a good idea to write him horrendous embarassing love poetry, which I hope has been destroyed by now. It went something like this,” Never again would she feel heat like this.” Of course he thought I was talking about his gun! Now I suppose he is an overweight ex-cop with screaming kids and an angry girlfriend living in a forclosed house in tiny town complaining about people on welfare. A narrow escape from the five-o.