I don't know when it hit me.
Was it gazing on Kyle Secor's slightly upturned nose while obsessively watching "Homicide," making me forget that Belzer exists? Was it taking a work break, flipping on the TV where the final scene of "She's Having a Baby" turned up and a small slow tear dripped down Kevin Bacon's finely chiseled yet pale cheek? Perhaps it was a late night viewing of "sex lies and videotape" where a tousled, crazy and so cleanly yet dirtily white James Spader steals the show from a suspendered-yet-dauntingly attractive Peter Gallagher and his terribly ethnic eyebrows. Which came on after "Reservoir Dogs." Did you know that Tim Roth is NOT a Jew? As English (Smith) as they come. Perhaps it was when I paced around my living room the other night, tensely flipping a cell phone around in my hand, knocking off my shelf a copy of "Secretary," another kinky-Spader vehicle, while angrily scrolling through my recent calls; I was on the brink of facing down a litany of well-spoken yet powerful New England-white-boy frustration and rage, going head to head with my equally eloquent, well-honed New-York-ethnic-scorned-woman fury. Was it the curtly dismissive email I sent this morning, to someone who has frequently charmed the socks off me, yet literally couldn't pick a synagogue out of a line-up of buildings on a city block?
When? When did this simple mixed-ethnic generic-slavic-hebraic girl become such an Aryan acolyte? When did my Mayflower flower bloom? Isn't Anglophilia a recessive trait?
Whither the gloriously ethnic heroes, crushes, loves of my youth? My Lee Mazzillis and Ron Darlings? My fun ethnic comics? Why did the buffet of extras on my Aristocrats DVD lead me away from Jon Stewart and towards Jake Johanson? Stop looking at me, Bill Paxton, bigamy is wrong! I'm a Sopranos girl, not a Big Love-r! Save me, Steve Buscemi! Be my Reservoir Dog and chase these fair-haired boys out of my yard!
WHAT THE GOSH DARN HECK HAPPENED TO ME?
Maybe I need a scholarship to J-Date. STAT.
And a call from the Belz couldn't hurt.
POSTSCRIPT: The correct acronym for Daughters of the American Revolution is, in fact, DAR. And I'm nowhere near close, natch. Can I be adopted?