Friday at Midnight. Pirates of the Caribbean Four. I. Can't. Wait.
I am Johnny Depp's biggest fan.
Well, not Johnny, I am Captain Jack Sparrows biggest fan.
I think it is the dark eyeliner.
My girls know I love Jack. My girls friends know I love Jack. My coworkers, my family and the random person at the Jewel check out line, all know, I love Captain Jack Sparrow.
I have a T-shirt that says I love him. It has little hearts on it. For emphasis.
I had my Facebook converted to pirate language for a while.
I celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day with fervor. (September 19th every year!)
I have been known to play the movie with no sound and I pretend that Jack and I are spending some time together. It makes my housework feel less like drudgery. Don't judge me.
I got a poster of Jack for my birthday one year and tacked it on the ceiling above my bed. I was in my forties. My oldest daughter walked by as as I was standing on the bed trying to hold the poster and pin it to the ceiling. She stopped, stared and said, "You are soooooo paying for my therapy."
Bob knows if he wants to woo me, all he has to do is say "Arrrrrgggggg", in his pirate accent. I melt.
One day I was walking along the beach and lo and behold who should be sitting on the beach forlornly drinking rum? Yep, it was Jack himself. He'd had a spot of bad luck and was regrouping. He asked me to join him and I couldn't say no. We spent a lovely couple of hours shootin' the breeze and drinking rum right out of the bottle. I have a picture.
Three more days.