Great Expectations

Park Song – The Dodos

I always tell people that I don’t care if they forget my birthday, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not affected when someone unexpectedly remembers it. I received an e-mail from Adriana (my old Food Basics partner in crime) wishing me a belated b-day on the 5th. Now, she’s probably like me and keeps a list of birthdays on her cell phone or her computer and was reminded automatically, but it’s still nice to be thought of. Most people would send a simple “thank you” back and move on, but not I. No, when I receive an e-mail from someone who I was once infatuated with and who, for whatever reason, had been on my mind recently, I must go that extra mile.

That’s right, instead of just giving her a generic response, I cracked a couple of lame jokes and proposed that we meet and catch up on things. Why would I do that? I have nothing new to offer. I’m in the same place I was when I saw her last. Actually, that’s a lie. The last time I spoke to her I had a fucking job. Now I’m the same chump I used to be and I’m poor. Why do I do these things to myself? The worst part is that I’m actually hoping for two things:

1) That she doesn’t have a boyfriend. This shouldn’t matter to me because we’re talking about someone that I’ve known for years now and whom I haven’t made it as far as a movie date with, yet still this attraction persists.

2) That I’ve somehow changed in the last year and she finds me exceedingly charming now. Yeah. I have this hope everytime I see someone who I haven’t seen in a long time. As if sitting around, waking up at noon and playing X-Box with Max is some kind of secret method to increasing one’s charisma.

We were supposed to meet last Tuesday, but she cancelled. She said that she had a “study group”. If that’s not a thinly veiled reason to bail on me, I don’t know what is. Like the gimp I am, I was all That’s cool. Studying is important. You go, girl! *snap, snap, snap* She said she’d call me to set something up for next week, but I hope she doesn’t. I’m not mad at her, I’m mad at myself for forcing someone into a potentially uncomfortable social situation. She undoubtedly regrets e-mailing me now. If you’re a girl, you can’t send these table scraps my way. I’m like an emotional cockroach. Now she won’t be able to get rid of me. I hope she doesn’t call back.

Wow. That post made me feel I was fourteen again. Back to your regularly scheduled links.

If this girl ever makes it to the major leagues, I’ll know that “rice picking” has reached a whole new level.

Steve Nash is GOD. But you knew that already.

Oh, I don’t believe in hypothetical situations Mr. Donaghy. That’s like lying to your brain.