So I saw “17 Again,” but I wasn’t really seeing it…

17_againIn the world of cinema, it doesn’t take much to make me swoon. A slight grin; gently tousled hair; a longing glance or two; some tears; a dynamic love story. And an incredibly good-looking guy doing/being all of the above!

And after seeing Zac Efron in “17 Again” on Saturday, my quota of ridiculously hot ogling has been filled.

It’s a really cute movie . . . really. Twenty years ago, Mike was the hotshot basketball player with his whole life — and career — ahead of him. An unexpected, erm, development derails his plans of going on to greatness and instead lands him squarely in the role of husband, father and office drone. At the end of a terribly long day capped by his discussions of his impending divorce from high school sweetheart Scarlett, some sort of magic — and an observant school janitor — allows him to transform back in his 17-year-0ld self. He basically gets a mulligan.

At first, Mike (played by Efron or, for about ten minutes, Matthew Perry) believes he’s been given a second chance at adolescence in order to go after all those dreams he sacrificed for Scarlett and their son and daughter. He’s basically living in a selfish wasteland. And I won’t ruin the film for you . . . not that there are too many spoilers, persay. But Mike heads back to high school with the help of his longtime best friend Ned, he gets a firsthand look at what life is really like for his kids. And he realizes that his true purpose in being 17 again is, in fact, not selfish at all.

Yeah, I know . . . blah blah. Plot stuff. Things happening. I laugh out loud a bunch of times, and I’m watching the movie but I’m not watching the movie. I’m too busy staring at Zac Efron pushing his hair out of his eyes (how is even that quirk adorable to me? Why doesn’t he just get a haircut?), Zac Efron twirling a basketball, Zac Efron leaning back casually in a chair. I can’t stop staring at his face, the way he crosses his arms. And before you think I’m a cradle-robber, let me remind you that Mr. Efron is, in fact, 21 years old! I had to Wikipedia that before I got too involved! I’m 23, so I figure my window of opportunity hasn’t quite slammed shut just yet . . . never mind that he’s, uh, perhaps a wee bit out of my league!

But that’s just depressing. Let’s move on to the eye candy! I present to you . . .

zac_efron

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit B

Exhibit C

Exhibit C

Exhibit B? Yeah. Mama’s got a new desktop background. And it’s high-res!

Not something you can easily part with

high_school_musical_3_poster My mom had David Cassidy. Friends had Rick Springfield, New Edition, New Kids on the Block and Michael J. Fox. My sister and I lovingly adored Hanson, ‘NSYNC and, occasionally, Devon Sawa and Jonathan Taylor Thomas (oh yes, J.T.T.!). And now, in yet another chapter of “teenage rites of passage,” my 12-year-old cousin has Zac Efron, the Jonas Brothers and “High School Musical.” It’s hard to believe we’ve already gotten to that teen-crush stage, but I’m happy we’re able to share some of that heart-pining misery!

Now, I’m 23 years old — not exactly beyond the realm of school-girl crushes. And I still have a few! Start up a friendly chat about John Mayer, James Franco or James McAvoy and I’m right there with my latest spate of celebrity gossip. Either I really dig boys with “J” names in general or I’m never beyond the realm of ogling a cute guy.

Do we ever really get beyond the realm of ogling a cute guy?

hanson

We still love Hanson!

And even though Hanson has been out of the limelight for ten years or so, my sister and I have religiously followed their careers, marriages, children and various other activities since I was 11 — and she was 8. Eight years old! That’s not something you easily part with.

And my mom reminded me in 1997, as she reminds me now, that these fads come and go — all young women need someone to screech and squeal and discuss at slumber parties and walks around the mall. Take the Beatles as Exhibit A. Does anyone really get over their first-time-discovery love of the Beatles? It’s pretty much impossible.

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