shirin circa 1991 was team brandon. completely.

jason priestley: my first celebrity crush (i’m choosing to ignore my actual first crush. jordan from nkotb. it was a crush-fling really. super intense. super short. super embarrassing)

anyway, back to brandon. i had pillowcases. i had a heart shaped locket with his face on it. i got rid of my ken doll so barbie could hook up with a cool, cool priestley plastic replica. complete with brown suede jacket, plaid boxers (yes, i peeked), and silver medallion necklace.

i was obsessed. i gushed to my 6th grade boyfriend about my love for jason (sorry ben, you were smart…but not so dreamy). sweet sweet jason. he was intelligent, kind, from the middle, dreamy, and those eyes. ooooh THOSE EYES! they changed colors, you know. i had a poster (ripped out of teen beat, i think) of his face. it was a 2 page fold-out from the center of the magazine so there was a tear in his cheek from where the staple was. it annoyed me that the magazine would defile him in that way. i was also peeved that there was a luke perry photo on the flip side. so on the rare (read: frequent) occasion that i pressed my prepubescent face against jason’s and whispered sweet nothings, i was always concerned that luke would hear and think i was talking to him. yes, i feared that luke perry would show up at my door and expect me to love him the way i loved brandon. yes, i’ve always had irrational fears. it used to be wolves. now, it’s poodles. only the standard ones, the miniature ones don’t bug me much.

anyway, today i saw a photo of luke perry. and i thought, DAMN! why was i so into brandon again? i mean, i’ve always been a sucker for the whole ‘i’m broken and desperately need fixing’ thing. plus, dylan had his own place and that foxxxy old car! and then i remembered (read: googled incessantly for the next hour) those eyes. and so while jason priestley circa 2009 does not appeal to me, in the least ~ there DID exist a time when brandon walsh was my walking dream.

alas, give me a sweet, intelligent, dreamy boy from the middle over the spoiled, alcoholic, too-cool guy any day. sigh. my dear sweet brandon, i’d pick you over dylan, time and time again. you were (and always will be) my first true love (read: lusssst) crush.

i’d like to think that i’ve matured…and i have. but my taste in boys has remained largely the same.