#1

In light of the events of last night's 88th Academy Awards, I feel like this is the perfect time to discuss with you the first story that has been nominated by a panel of my peers for "Most Embarrassing Moment in Becca's Life."  This "panel of peers" consists mostly of my mom and siblings, with a few close friends thrown in.  So, in reality not quite my peers, just a bunch of people that are tired of my shit.

As we all know, Leonardo DiCaprio, until last night, had never won an Oscar.  The internet loved to remind the world of that.  To me and many others, this was absolute bullshit.  He is one of the most amazing actors to ever exist and the Academy has snubbed him numerous times (5, I think).  Over the course of the past 20 years, I have had very strong feelings about this.  Every single time he's lost for Best Actor, I would yell at the television and throw whatever was closest to me at it. 

Not this year, though.  This year, HE FINALLY FUCKING WON!  My reaction was not the least bit shocking, seeing as how I like celebrities and fictional characters more than I do people I actually know/actually exist.  I screamed.  I ugly-cried.  I hyperventilated.  I honestly lost my shit and pissed off my neighbors in the process.  One of my best friends, with whom I was video-chatting the entire Oscars, recorded my reaction.  I cried for about 2 hours; I am so happy for him.  I didn't even know who won Best Picture until I woke up this morning because I was so distracted by Leo finally getting his much deserved award.

This is not the embarrassing story.  Everyone knows my love for Leo is stronger than anything in this world, and if you didn't know that, now you do.  No, the embarrassing part of this post has to do with the letter that I wrote to him when I was 10 years old. 
IN PENCIL. 
I know.

Remember all those teen magazines in the 90s?  There was Teen People, Seventeen, Tiger Beat, and YT or something like that.  These magazines catered to a younger demographic and always had "teenage heartthrobs" and "the Girl Next Door" type actresses/singers on the covers.  Well also in those magazines they published actors' addresses where you could send them fan mail.  Remember, this was before Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.  You couldn't just message them in 140 characters about how much you loved them, it took time and effort.

Well, one day while I was staring at the pictures in one of those magazines, I found Leo's address.  (To all my readers born after 1996, the addresses given were not a celebrity's real home address.  That would be creepy.  It was usually a P.O. Box set up by their Talent Agency in order for fans to reach out to them.  I doubt they even read it.)  Anyway, I decided that day I was going to write him a love letter of sorts.  Now I didn't have the skill with words that I do today, I was 10, and incredibly stupid.

I haven't seen the letter in almost 20 years so I don't quite remember everything that I wrote, but I do remember bits and pieces.  I told him how much I loved him and his movies.  Constantly.  I think I wrote "I love you" about 6 times. (Which is how many times he has been nominated for an Oscar, by the way.  So, fate.) I had seen every single movie of his, up until that point, except for Basketball Diaries because my sister Natasha said I was too young to watch it.  I put that in the letter.  I was mad at her for loving him too and didn't want to share him, so I tried to defame her character.  I obviously planned on marrying him and didn't want competition from my own flesh and blood.  I still plan on marrying him one day, let's be honest here.

This letter never reached him.  I'm not saying that because he never responded and I'm being dramatic, I never actually mailed the letter.  Why? Because I didn't know how to go about buying stamps when I was 10 and didn't really understand the postal system.  I thought you just put a letter in the mailbox, raise the flag, and that was it.  My mailman, Rick, got annoyed with me at least once a week over this.  This letter is currently sitting in my mother's garage.  I know this because Natasha found it a couple years ago and reminded me of how embarrassed I should feel.

Don't worry Natasha, I am slightly.   Not enough to allow you to have him, though.