The Notebook of Love

>>> Casual Misanthropy
By staff writer JD Rebello
March 5, 2006

Dear Readers,

I’m in love.

Her name is Rachel. Rachel McAdams. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. She is the star of such films as The Notebook, Mean Girls, Wedding Crashers, and Red Eye. I loved all four films, and there’s a reason: Rachel McAdams. I don’t even know how to explain it. My heart is aflutter. To paraphrase Lloyd Christmas, “I desperately want to make love to a schoolboy.”

After On-Demanding Red Eye, a pretty solid little thriller, I decided my life now has a purpose: to find Rachel McAdams and profess my true feelings. This isn’t one of my lame-duck celebrity crushes, but just for kicks, here’s a run down of my all-time loves.

Age 8 - April O’Neil, the cartoon character. Yup. Deal with it.

Age 13 - Courtney Cox. We forget this now, but in 1994, Courtney and Jen Aniston were neck and neck. Seriously, go back and watch an early episode of Friends. Courtney Cox was smoking hot. Yet somewhere along the line, Courtney Cox completely fell out of contention, like how Gameday and Madden were neck and neck on the old Playstation, then somewhere along the line Gameday shit the bed and Madden took the reins. (You forget this now, Gameday ‘98 was fucking solid. Even as my friend Tom whooped me, 78-0, with Brett Favre in his prime, I enjoyed the shit out of that game. Maybe I’m just sentimental.)

"Imagine Julia Roberts, except attractive and talented. That’s the ceiling I’m setting for Rachel McAdams."

You know what I think is responsible? Monica getting with Chandler. Just as that subplot tanked the show, it tanked Courtney Cox in her feud with Aniston. And man did it tank the show. Again, watch an old Friends. Chandler was hilarious early on, and for three seasons closed in on Beavis as the funniest character in TV history. I’m serious. Now watch him after he marries Monica. It’s jarring.

Well, you know what happened next. Cox ended up with David Arquette, the kind of guy who belongs in a tollbooth on the Jersey Turnpike. Aniston? Got married to Brad Pitt, and you know, I’m 100% straight, but even I’d fuck Brad Pitt. And every guy who says different is a Commie liar.

And just to keep this tangent going, you can’t hold it against Aniston for Pitt choosing Angelina Jolie. Christ, everyone wants Angelina Jolie: dudes, chicks, those things in Blue Man Group. In fact, I bet you know at least five girls who at one time or another said: “Man, I would totally bang Angelina Jolie.” Isn’t that amazing? Angelina could convert the entire world to lesbianism like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. And there’s still time.

Age 16 - Britney Spears. Hey, remember when she was hot?

Age 18 - Avril Lavigne. Ugh, I hate myself for this one. Something about the summer of 2002 and that “Complicated” video. I don’t know. Listen, just don’t hold that against me.

Age 20 - Hilary Duff. We’ve been over this. In graphic detail. I will say this, does anyone still have Lindsay in the Lohan-Duff feud? How? Honestly, how? Lindsay Lohan is a soulless hose beast, the likes of which won’t fully be revealed until Disney Channel starts airing those movies from 8MM superimposed over That’s So Raven.

Age 22 - Rachel McAdams.

Look, I don’t even know where to begin. This isn’t even a sexual thing…though it very well could be. This is pure love. How do I love Rachel McAdams? Let me count the ways:

1. She’s a good actress. I think that should count for something.

2. She’s got a great sense of humor. I love in Wedding Crashers when she’s snickering over her sister’s nautical-themed wedding vows. She’s got such a cute smile. I love it when girls smile but don’t show teeth. That’s just adorable. And yes, I realize I’m losing readers by the word. (“Hey, where are the racial slurs?” they’ll shout from the rooftops. “This isn’t what I signed up for!”)

3. She’s got an amazing body. Again, not even sexual, you just have to love it. You know what I like? She looks like a normal person. You know how Jessica Simpson kind of looks like one of the thieves from Sugar and Spice, all fake? (Even though I would do insanely wrong things to Jessica Simpson, let’s just say a fish tank would be involved.) Not Rachel. No, I could meet her in a Starbucks. Or an independent record store. Or a used bookstore. Or any other place I tell girls I hang out, even though I spend most of my time hustling guys in Ready 2 Rumble at Best Buy.

4. You get the feeling she’s going to have an amazing career. Imagine Julia Roberts, except attractive and talented. That’s the ceiling I’m setting for Rachel McAdams. I’m guessing two Oscars, five $100 million movies (she already has one under her belt), and not a single leaked sex tape. My Rachel is too good for that.

Ok, so that’s why I love her. So why should she love me? Here’s why:

1. I carry all of the qualities of Ryan Gosling in The Notebook with two exceptions: a) I’m not a massive ass-hat and b) my last name isn’t Gosling. Is there a more effeminate last name than Gosling? Was Piglet unavailable? Or Swan? How about Uterus?

2. I’m as funny as Owen Wilson, with two added bonuses: a) My nose doesn’t look like James Carville’s urethra and b) I don’t appear in unwatchable Wes Anderson films. Honestly, please stop telling me how funny The Royal Tenenbaums is. It’s about as funny as a nine-hour docu-drama on the Dewey Decimal system. Being boring and quirky is not funny. Deep down people know this, and that’s why I’m here, and the Canadian is rotting away in a Saskatchewan cell block.

3. My goal is to get a building named after me at Northeastern University. Since I have neither the grades nor the excess income, I figured telling everyone I put it in Rachel McAdams would sort of grease the wheels, right?

4. I would accept it if she wanted to make one of those hideous feminist movies like Erin Brockovitch or Mona Lisa Smile. I would be there with you on opening night, cheering you on, my darling princess.

5. I’m not saying I’m huge. But remember how the Nazis reacted at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark? Something to think about.

So that’s why. And now here’s a list of things I would give up for just one date with Rachel McAdams:

1. Red meat.
2. Domestic beer.
3. MVP 2005 Owner mode.
4. Masturbating in the AM hours.
5. Not cleaning my bathroom.
6. Late night nachos in bed while watching infomercials.
7. Automatic staplers.
8. Any other version of AIM besides AIM Triton.

That’s what I’ll do. So to all my loyal readers (thanks Johnny Demon), I implore you to assist me in obtaining my one date, one evening, one dinner, and one goodnight kiss with the most beautiful woman in the world, Miss Rachel McAdams.

I will not rest until that day comes, except for right now. It’s kind of late. But Rachel, I’m always thinking of you. Not in a creepy way either. Loving. All loving, like in Titanic. I just don’t want to freeze to death. I hate cold water. Seriously, I took a cold shower the other day, it was abysmal. I’m rambling. I do that when I’m nervous. Don’t hate me. Oh God, I’m screwing this up. Rachel…RACHEL! I’ll buy Mean Girls on DVD soon. I swear!