Fangirling–The shortness of breath, fainting, high-pitched squealing, quivering, hyperventilation, endless blogsposts, etc. that occur as a reaction to the object of affection and/or obsession.
Okay, I’m not really a closet fangirl. My children are well aware of what I am. And if we’re not fangirling over the same thing (Lord of the Rings), they regard it (and me) with patronizing impatience. My husband seems okay with my enthusiasm (the euphemism for fangirling.) I think he knows he’ll always be the number one object of my fangirling. Or maybe he’s just ignoring it.
Some would say I’m a fickle fangirl, but I would argue that at my age it’s natural that I would have been enthusiastically obsessed with a great number of people, bands, drummers, ball players, books, and authors. Davy Jones was the first object of my adoration. At a very young age, I told my mom I was going to marry him. I couldn’t understand why that annoyed her. I realize now that I’d probably been carrying on for so long that she was sick of hearing it.
The Detroit Tigers slogan “Who’s your Tiger?” is fangirl heaven. Works for me anyway. But since I seem to curse any Tiger unlucky enough to be mine, I refrain from choosing one. Instead, I have lots.
The most recent object of my fangirling is John Green. (Not that he’s an object.) Four of his books are currently on the NY Times Young Adult Bestseller list. He is a gifted writer. I especially loved his book, The Fault In Our Stars (TFIOS in fanspeak), the movie version of which will be released in June. The trailers look AWESOME. Ask my kids who’ve had to watch them with me on numerous occasions. On second thought, don’t ask them.
My eleven-year-old daughter is fangirling as I write this, about a book she just finished, insisting in the tell-tale squeal that she NEEDS the sequel NOW or she will HYPERVENTILATE (her exact words). Witnessing a fangirl fit is quite a different experience from throwing a fangirl fit.
And yet I don’t think it will cure me from my enthusiastic passion for fangirling. I’m just glad I outgrew the Steve Perry thing.