Facebook, Love Marriage, draft in progress
I hate facebook. If you're one of the three people left in the world with internet access actually reading this (the remaining x billion people fb lost-weekending), you're probably thinking, Thanks, dani. we can always count on you to state the obvious. That's why we're your three constant readers.
For a change, you've got it all wrong. My intent is not to announce gleefully "It's raining outside!" or "I was just thinking about [my long-dead dog] Hank. This time, it's a bonafide epiphany.
The great thing about facebook is that you find your long-lost friends, right? This morning, I got stabbed by the double-edged sword of the cursed blessing as I unwittingly flipped over to the other side of the coin. I mean, it was harsh enough that I'm tempted to get redundant.
Ah. I digress.
In the wee small hours of the morning, while the whole wide world is fast asleep, I romanticize the shit out of every long-lost love that got away before we knew each other well enough to wreck the train...then I cyberstalk The One. The One varies, of course, but my monogamous heart only allows me to fixate on one at a time. I think it's a seasonal disorder.
Lately I've been Hardcore Girl Scout. Irish won't do; Pasty in Seattle won't do; not even the illustrious give to me your leather, take from me my lace tie-dyed junior-high Nietszche reading mountain man The First, aka Shane Zieche won't do tonight. And I was googling Shane Zieche before googling yourself was in.To briefly summarize, it's a long 'if you're not from the Subcontinent, you need not apply' phase for me.
There is one other. I don't think about him, ever. I'm surrounded by a near-sufficient percentage of Brown people 40ish hours a week, though, so I did think of him once before this morning. ....*
One afternoon last semester, walking in to the building I work in, I thought I saw him. I blame my horselike peripheral vision; I was not Scouting for Cookies on this particular day. Not horny, not daydreamy, not thinking a poem while driving to work or even paying attention to what I was listening to. Totally in work mode.
But for an entire second, the guy I saw was A___. My heart did the same thing it did for the very first time in my whole life the summer after 7th grade (see The Annotated Complete Shane Zieche Works of Dani Linn, not yet in print).
You know this feeling if you've ever had so much as a crush. Or an almost car accident or panic attack, for that matter. (They're all quite similar, really.)
Your legs stop moving, but you don't notice, because the center of your chest implodes, and it hurts. Bad, and worse when your heart and stomach get involved and try to switch places.
Of course, by the third second, the guy who wasn't A___ was...not A___. Not someone I'd bother checking out. After those endless three seconds and the much too fast 30 seconds spent in near-collapse against the back wall of the elevator, I found my breath again, went back into work mode. Later I told my sister, but only because I was so surprised by my reaction. I didn't know until that first long second that A___ was one of The Ones.
Okay, so remember when I said I hated facebook?
The wee small hours have passed, I know, and now it's almost dewy sunrise time, but think back if you can to....*
I found A___. Only 14 fb users with his name, damnit. Worse yet, he was the first web result. I clicked on that one first. Either I have sudden-onset H1-N5 [ck-MA], or it was the picture of him. I learn from my mistakes almost as quickly as your average closed-head injury victim, so I decided to see if he'd married his sweet betrothed near-stranger who was back on the Subcontinent when I knew him. Yep. And she's beautiful, while he's looking a little like he should hit the gym at his earliest convenience. (I remember that I had so hoped she was at least just pretty.)
It didn't matter. I remembered the dress I wore one clandestine night. It was my favorite dress, and I was beautiful because of the way he looked at me. More important, I thought he was beautiful. We never ran out of words when we were together. I realize now that I was close enough to falling in love with him that I lost my balance. It felt like he was, too. It was the summer after 9-11. [ck year-TLS]
-->fox&hound incident w/the white guy glares; parking lot lingering, lingering in his car (kissing--good (sloppy) passionate kisses or was it only one long kiss?)-->liberal Muslims<-- span="">mention her hair--Denny's parking lot lingering (kissing--good (sloppy) passionate kisses or was it only one long kiss?)--dialogue Did he really say "I'm sure I'll learn to love her."
"My children will marry who they want to marry."back to hair--was mine really long and what color was it? (summer of GD Family Reunion?)
It's happening again.
For a change, you've got it all wrong. My intent is not to announce gleefully "It's raining outside!" or "I was just thinking about [my long-dead dog] Hank. This time, it's a bonafide epiphany.
The great thing about facebook is that you find your long-lost friends, right? This morning, I got stabbed by the double-edged sword of the cursed blessing as I unwittingly flipped over to the other side of the coin. I mean, it was harsh enough that I'm tempted to get redundant.
Ah. I digress.
In the wee small hours of the morning, while the whole wide world is fast asleep, I romanticize the shit out of every long-lost love that got away before we knew each other well enough to wreck the train...then I cyberstalk The One. The One varies, of course, but my monogamous heart only allows me to fixate on one at a time. I think it's a seasonal disorder.
Lately I've been Hardcore Girl Scout. Irish won't do; Pasty in Seattle won't do; not even the illustrious give to me your leather, take from me my lace tie-dyed junior-high Nietszche reading mountain man The First, aka Shane Zieche won't do tonight. And I was googling Shane Zieche before googling yourself was in.To briefly summarize, it's a long 'if you're not from the Subcontinent, you need not apply' phase for me.
There is one other. I don't think about him, ever. I'm surrounded by a near-sufficient percentage of Brown people 40ish hours a week, though, so I did think of him once before this morning. ....*
One afternoon last semester, walking in to the building I work in, I thought I saw him. I blame my horselike peripheral vision; I was not Scouting for Cookies on this particular day. Not horny, not daydreamy, not thinking a poem while driving to work or even paying attention to what I was listening to. Totally in work mode.
But for an entire second, the guy I saw was A___. My heart did the same thing it did for the very first time in my whole life the summer after 7th grade (see The Annotated Complete Shane Zieche Works of Dani Linn, not yet in print).
You know this feeling if you've ever had so much as a crush. Or an almost car accident or panic attack, for that matter. (They're all quite similar, really.)
Your legs stop moving, but you don't notice, because the center of your chest implodes, and it hurts. Bad, and worse when your heart and stomach get involved and try to switch places.
Of course, by the third second, the guy who wasn't A___ was...not A___. Not someone I'd bother checking out. After those endless three seconds and the much too fast 30 seconds spent in near-collapse against the back wall of the elevator, I found my breath again, went back into work mode. Later I told my sister, but only because I was so surprised by my reaction. I didn't know until that first long second that A___ was one of The Ones.
Okay, so remember when I said I hated facebook?
The wee small hours have passed, I know, and now it's almost dewy sunrise time, but think back if you can to....*
I found A___. Only 14 fb users with his name, damnit. Worse yet, he was the first web result. I clicked on that one first. Either I have sudden-onset H1-N5 [ck-MA], or it was the picture of him. I learn from my mistakes almost as quickly as your average closed-head injury victim, so I decided to see if he'd married his sweet betrothed near-stranger who was back on the Subcontinent when I knew him. Yep. And she's beautiful, while he's looking a little like he should hit the gym at his earliest convenience. (I remember that I had so hoped she was at least just pretty.)
It didn't matter. I remembered the dress I wore one clandestine night. It was my favorite dress, and I was beautiful because of the way he looked at me. More important, I thought he was beautiful. We never ran out of words when we were together. I realize now that I was close enough to falling in love with him that I lost my balance. It felt like he was, too. It was the summer after 9-11. [ck year-TLS]
-->fox&hound incident w/the white guy glares; parking lot lingering, lingering in his car (kissing--good (sloppy) passionate kisses or was it only one long kiss?)-->liberal Muslims<-- span="">mention her hair--Denny's parking lot lingering (kissing--good (sloppy) passionate kisses or was it only one long kiss?)--dialogue Did he really say "I'm sure I'll learn to love her."
"My children will marry who they want to marry."back to hair--was mine really long and what color was it? (summer of GD Family Reunion?)
It's happening again.
posted by danilinn at 10:56 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home