Back on my Bill Hader bullshit
Preemptively apologizing to my therapist for whatever this crush of mine means.
I’ve written about my somewhat (extremely) crippling crush on Bill Hader before, I know, but, like allergies, periods, and “the boys,” this crush is back, baby! (That was a “the boys are back in town” joke if you didn’t catch it. I hope you caught it. I am very proud of it).
Not that the crush ever really left, it just temporarily relocated to the back-burner of the Stove of My Crushes. My crush on Bill Hader is perhaps my healthiest and most favorite of all my celebrity crushes. Why, you ask? Because I don’t feel remotely guilty if/when my attention and affection is momentarily swayed, causing me to fixate on people like Jack Quaid, Ryan Gosling, Riz Ahmed, James Norton, or Ethan Hawke and his greasy hair. This might not be big to you guys, but it is to me, a person who feels guilty about any and everything they have ever done, thought about, or thought about thinking about.
My crush on Bill Hader is a constant. It’s just one of those things that’s not gonna change; I know this and I am very, very okay with it.
In the last few months I hadn’t really been engaging with that large-foreheaded, always-laughing SNL alum much, but that changed the second I touched down in London and spent most of my six-day quarantine watching compilations of Bill Hader breaking on SNL and drinking a little too much.
The videos were enough to bring me back into my Bill Hader-loving headspace, a headspace that allows me to honor my comedy geek side as well as my pretentious-as-hell film bro side, a side that Bill Hader manages to embody without being at all insufferable. That is nearly impossible to do, you guys. I should know; I’ve dated guys in LA. Their love of movies (apologies, films) is outweighed only by their passion for mansplaining, condescension, and not even at all subtle misogyny and unnecessary sexualization.
So I’m in London, listening to beautiful accents and spending my time actively pining after a man whose laugh is maybe my favorite sound ever… I’m unsure about what this means, but in any case, I’m in it, guys. I’m in it deep.
Just a few days ago my friend Molly posted a story on their Instagram where they had google searched whether or not Bill Hader was a nice guy. This was my completely level-headed and not at all insane response:
To my friends reading this, I apologize. I know that my crush on Hader, while much less taxing emotionally than my Brad Pitt crush, can be exhausting to be around.
My friend Sophie once gave me a pep talk (she’s very good at them), and closed it out with this:
You’re in control of your life and you’re too attracted to Bill Hader and…
She’s right about one of two things in that statement. I am very much not in control of my life, but I like that she thinks I am!
I was also once asked:
Do all of your friends tell you to stop being attracted to Bill Hader?
It’s a good question. The answer is: no, they don’t. Here’s why:
Most of my friends know that I am too stubborn to ever listen to them, especially when it comes to the likes of someone as funny, kind, hot, and tallish (by actor standards) as Bill Hader
A lot of them also have crushes on him (NOTE: I have called dibs and also I’ve been on the “I Love Bill Hader Train” since I was eight, so seniority rules in this particular case)
After Barry came out and Bill was dubbed an episodic genius as well as a comedic legend, I stopped getting shit for having a thing for Stefon because “Oh my god, Ava, he’s such a good writer! And did you see the “ronny/lily” episode?! He directed it! He’s like… super talented.”
Yes, Bill Hader is 20 years older than me and yes he has three kids, but these facts really don’t sink in all that much when I’m watching Trainwreck and he does that thing with his face where his eyes light up and his smile gets misty and he says something funny and charming and hot in the way that is sexy but also comforting if that makes sense.
I could go into all of the reasons I love this man, but I’m saving that for my tear-filled speech I plan to make at our wedding, which will be full of my friends rolling their eyes and saying, “That crazy kid. She did it. She really did it.”
And, dear readers, I cannot wait.
I will wrap this up by saying this: In Trainwreck, LeBron James asks Amy Schumer the following questions:
Do you get butterflies when you hear his name?
When you look at a cloud do you see his face?
Do you hear his name when you listen to the wind?
LeBron, the answers to your questions are yes, yes, and yes.
xx,
Ava
