2 Months. 5 Minutes.

You Make Loving Fun – Fleetwood Mac

Let it never be said that my crazy stalker plans don’t work.

Last week I found out how to meet Elena without having to actually call her. You know I hate doing things like that. I was heading to my tutorial and I just passed her as she was coming down this stairwell. I would have said “hi” except she was with some girl and I was clearly heading in the opposite direction. It would have been weird. I was hoping that she would notice me, but she didn’t. However, I now had a time and a place.

I met up with my cousin Adrienne today to have a quick meal and deliver her birthday present to her. It was nice, because I haven’t had much chance to talk to her this year and she’s always been around to hear me complain about this or that. When I told her about Elena and my plans to ambush her, she laughed. I explained that if this was the 1940s, my bizarre antics would be considered romantic. Now they’re borderline criminal. What a world we live in.

My plan was six-fold:

1) Meet up with Julius in front of Sidney Smith.
2) Move to the stairwell where I saw her last week and stand around there, chatting.
3) Wait for the target to approach and a) recognize me or b) recognize Julius. If neither occurs, then c) ATTACK!!!
4) Tell Elena that I accidentally though I had tutorial today, but since I don’t I’m free to walk her to wherever she is going. Julius buggers off.
5) Make small talk about movies, school work, the civil war in Iraq. It’s all good.
6) If all goes well, proceed with the sexing.

Obviously that all went out the window. I lost track of time hanging out with my cousin and I suddenly found myself in a mad dash down St. George street. I mean, right down the middle of the street. Cars were being blocked off due to construction, so maniacs like myself were free to go wherever we wanted. I chose to leave the sidewalks because I didn’t feel like running down any old ladies today. Maybe tomorrow. When I was finally forced to move back to the sidewalk, I ran along the elevated concrete paths that seperate the plants from the pavement. That’s how she saw me. I like to think the sight of me bounding through the air was impressive in some way, but again, I probably just looked out of my mind and sweaty. We shared an awkward hug (do I know any other kind?) and I asked her where she was going (even though it was SO obvious I was running in the opposite direction). She pointed to the building right next to us. On the one hand, I was unlucky because, well, there was really nowhere to walk her to now. On the other, I was lucky because if I hadn’t ran and if I had been ten seconds later, she would be in the building and I would have missed her completely.

I got to at least share an elevator ride with her and she told me she hadn’t been around much because she had some bacterial throat infection. As if she needed to make excuses for her not being around. She asked me what I was doing on Wednesday and then said that I should come to this Grad School thing at 5:30 that day. You can’t measure how quickly I said “yes”. I’m not going to stay there long, just long enough to let her know I was there. I’ll make plans to meet her after exams are over. It doesn’t matter really.

She has this strange sincerity about her. Like, I don’t know if she’s being sincere, but at least she’s convinced me that she is. She was meeting with a teacher assistant and when I asked her if I should leave rather than have her worry about my waiting for her, she scrunched her cute, little nose to indicate her displeasure at these unaccomodating circumstances. That nose scrunch is going to keep me up all night. I hadn’t seen her since frosh week and all it took was five minutes of conversation to leave me breathless. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t run so much when I’m wearing a thick jacket.

Lastly, for your amusement, a classic Conan sketch.

He guns it. Girl falls into the water. So we circle back looking for her, remember it’s pitch black out. The boat hits something. Hard. And you hear kind of *EEEEEEEeeeeuuuuhhh…* And Brokaw says, “Just go. Don’t look back.” Now, I’m not a writer but maybe there’s a skit in that.