It is no secret to readers of The Haggis that I have felt lust in my heart for Mr. E. McGregor. Lifting up mine countenance upon him has always filled me with a singular feeling of joy.
Today I was getting a multitude of blood products at Johns Hopkins' infusion center, where all transfusees sit in a quilting bee circle and get juiced. Unfortunately for my as-yet-unrequited devotion to EwanSweetEwan, I looked up from my book in said quilting bee circle and saw Ewan tending to his mother who (that's weird!) didn't sound Scottish and who (oh sweet mother of god!)---Ewan is a woman!!!
Yup. A woman. A woman who could hands down win any EMcG lookalike contest; hair, clothes and all. I don't know about you in a similar situation, but I instantly felt dirty. Not "dirty" in a homophobic sense, like, "OMG, I can't believe I feel attracted to a woman by accident/default." I am completely comfortable in my heterosexuality; comfortable enough to have a ready answer for that parlor game "If you were lesbian which female celebrity would you sleep with first?" So, not homophobic dirty. More like dirty in the "OMG--Ewan McGregor without a p*nis doesn't interest me" sense. It made the whole celeb crush thing just seem so seedy. All this time I've been saying its about rugged Scottish good looks (Woman McGregor? Check!) and "f-'em" attitude (Woman McGregor? Check!), but when faced with those precise qualities in a person of the same gender, I quickly realized that I must, if I'm honest, really like him for his boy parts. How else to explain my mini-freakout when I realized I was looking at his doppelganger and thinking, "wow, he's really cute--like Ewan McGregor--oh my lord! It's a girl!"
Oh wait. I know what it is! It's the accent! Yeah! That's it! She doesn't have the accent. Right?