The First Day of Spring.

A young man's heart turns to love.  Or sex.  Or both.  There can be both.

When you want to meet the right girl, you simply walk up to her, you take her face in your hands, and you look her right in the eyes.  Say nothing, just absorb what she is feeling.  Then slowly lean forward and kiss her, gently, on the lips.  When you lean back, let your hands drop lightly to her neck, and then let go, but never take your eyes off of her.

It helps if you look like Brad Pitt or whats-his-name, that Orlando Bloom kid.

That One Time at the Library.

I was with my friend Deana...this was back in, oh, 1989 or so.  We were both in high school, and had both known one another for about six years, since we were ten or so.  We tried dating once for about four days when I was fifteen.  It didn't really work.  It didn't help that shortly after this brief period, my brother (home from the Marines) went out with her on a date (and lied to me about who he'd gone out with).  My brother, who'd dated her older sister.  My brother, the right bastard.

Anyhow, this particular day came after all that drama.  Deana was a beautiful girl: roughly my height, athletic build, dark curly hair and brown eyes (or green or blue, they changed with her outfit what with the colored contact lenses).  Her volume seemed to be stuck sort of wide-open.  She was unaware of her beauty, and acted roughly like a fourteen year old boy, loud and friendly and mischievous.  She had been in the pom / dance squad, she was on the newspaper staff at school, and she and I had the same advanced placement classes, though she also had AP calculous (I could hardly do basic math) and was in many ways far more intelligent than anyone else I knew.  She had a brand new blue RX-7 and a car phone.  She never acted the snob, intent to be a bleeding heart liberal do-gooder despite the wealth of her family and the attitudes of her friends.  There was a strength there, a wild sort of teeth bared animal thing.  Teenage girls can fuel the rotation of the earth with that untamed energy.

We spent hours on the phone talking, creating philosophy or dissecting music or gossiping about random people. Having these scary conversations where we'd flirt using our respective IQs.  It was like playing chess with a supermodel in her underwear.

She wasn't perfect, but she was as close to it as I'd ever seen at the time.  Our friendship, over time, developed into something very deep; we trusted one another, and would seek one another out during times of trouble.  I'd often felt nervous around her, the attraction hard to hide, but in time I'd figured it out and was comfortable as her friend.

So we were at the library on the New Mexico State campus.  My heart had recently been squished by the Amy monster and Deana and I were just sort of hanging out, getting away from our houses and our lives for a bit, sitting with a bunch of college kids in a lounge-type area in the library.  Acting like college kids.  Pulling it off, damn near.

She was reading out loud from a victorian-era primer on romance, the both of us sarcastically commenting and laughing at the thing, when she looked up at me, sort of laughing, eyes squinted slightly with her smile.  Se stopped laughing and just smiled, her eyes looking right through me.  My heart stopped cold.  In that brief half-second was everything I'd missed to that point, and in that one look I got to see what she actually felt for me, the sort of care she had.  And in that same instant, I knew I'd fucked up and missed it.

I spent about a week on my own, locked into a routine of school, cigarettes, coffee, and writing that produced a fifty page screed bled into a teenage journal, fifty pages of angsty regret.  It's a sort of wonder that I didn't end up a goth kid.

A couple of years later, she called me out of the blue and asked if I wanted a job with her dad. He needed a young, motivated, inexpensive geek to help put together a network and, ultimately, a business.    My first computer-related job, my first salaried position as a system operator and general technician, that first step toward wage-slave status.  Deana worked there part-time in a marketing and design capacity, hanging out sometimes when she had nothing else to do.  I'd occassionally catch her regarding me.  I would occassionally be caught regarding her.  The opportunities were years past us, buried under subsequent friendship and assumed heartache.  We shared  a secret, unspoken, and you could see it in the way we acted, how we related.  We were never single at the same time, and we would pine for one another for years.

She lives outside of Portland, last I heard, doing a gig for Intel.

< You are PATHETIC | BBC White season: 'Rivers of Blood' >
Take my word for what it is. | 21 comments (21 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback
If you don't look like Pitt or Bloom by MohammedNiyalSayeed (4.00 / 6) #1 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 03:49:56 AM EST

Just add the following step to the meeting process:

Some of the best, most-sellable lyrics come from teen angst. God bless teen angst. And god bless teenagers for buying other people's teen angst!


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
roofies, by sasquatchan (4.00 / 4) #2 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:10:55 AM EST
or GHB.. My god, man. We have modern chemistry now. None of this clumsy Sherlockian chloroform.

[ Parent ]
Delivery Issues by MohammedNiyalSayeed (4.00 / 4) #6 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:23:22 AM EST

While modern pharmaceuticals have added a layer of finesse to modern courtship, there are some issues with the delivery of pill-based or powder-based ingestible aphrodisiacs that are still easily circumvented by the "brute force" approach of forced gaseous inhalants. That's why chloroform is a timeless classic!


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
[ Parent ]
Disapointing facts: by ni (4.00 / 2) #16 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 07:43:22 AM EST
It's actually shockingly difficult to make a person pass out using chloroform (without their cooperation, at least). It requires they inhale impractically huge amounts of it. Even if you do manage, you're probably going to end up killing them, because chloroform has a crazy-low therapeutic index.

Having trouble tracking down references, but wikipedia alludes to it in in the "Chloroform in pop culture" section.


Think metahistorically, act locally. -- CheeseburgerBrown

[ Parent ]
If I could open my arms... by 606 (4.00 / 1) #12 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 06:57:07 AM EST
Wide enough for the isle of Manhatten
I'd bring it to where you are
Making a lake of the east river and Hudson

:'-)

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imagine dancing banana here

[ Parent ]
Is that a little tear in your eye? by MohammedNiyalSayeed (4.00 / 1) #15 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 07:04:25 AM EST

Awwwwwwwww! Nothing I love more than someone crying!


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
[ Parent ]
i'm crying from the sheer beauty by 606 (4.00 / 1) #17 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 07:48:54 AM EST
[nt]

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imagine dancing banana here
[ Parent ]
What happens when people get that train? by ambrosen (4.00 / 2) #3 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:14:46 AM EST
Well, I guess they lead a life that's just as happy, but maybe just a little too ordinary. Maybe extraordinary people need some stories. And you are a person with stories.

Still, if it had worked out, you could have married someone clever, unlike your actual dumbass wife.

Er, ;)

No regrets now, by blixco (4.00 / 1) #7 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:37:06 AM EST
just a story.  One more in a limited stream.

Deana and I would never have lasted, anyhow.  It would have burned itself out too quick, and we'd have ended violently.
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco

[ Parent ]
More regrets if you'd have gone up and kissed her, by ambrosen (4.00 / 1) #20 Wed Mar 22, 2006 at 04:50:10 AM EST
well, at least in that case.

Well, that's my excuse for keeping still keeping my iron in the fire while it goes out. (And yes, it is the same iron I was all excited about last summer when she was first in the fire (overstretched metaphor alert.))

The flippancy of my grandparent comment was under the influence of pain and discomfort. Obviously, I assumed your wife's mental acuity was beyond reproach, otherwise I wouldn't have teased. I hope no offence was caused.

The way our experiences affect us is a very odd thing. I think that's reasonably uncontroversial. Not regret or relief, per se, because neither of those inform your view on life, but something in between. The things that seemed so intense then are no longer. At least, you can remember the intensity, but you can no longer feel it. Ofttimes, you can no longer understand it, but the better you understand, the better you are.

So life goes on.

I think this post would have been excusable if I were stoned. As it is, well, it may be nice if I distill it later.

[ Parent ]
+1 by blixco (2.00 / 0) #21 Wed Mar 22, 2006 at 04:52:45 AM EST
In re: grandparent comment, no offense was taken.  In re: all else, I think you have a subject there for your next diary entry....
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco
[ Parent ]
you simply walk up to her... by wiredog (4.00 / 2) #4 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:15:46 AM EST
, you take her face in your hands, and you look her right in the eyes. ... Then slowly lean forward and kiss her, gently, on the lips. When you lean back, let your hands drop lightly to her neck, and then let go, but never take your eyes off of her.

And, if you're in Texas or other parts of USistan, pray she isn't carrying a concealed weapon with which she can deal properly with weirdos who do that sort of thing.

Earth First!
(We can strip mine the rest later.)

Dude, by blixco (4.00 / 1) #8 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:37:56 AM EST
you don't just walk up to anyone and do this.  Weirdo.
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco
[ Parent ]
But you said by wiredog (2.00 / 0) #9 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:40:11 AM EST
"When you want to meet the right girl" Meet. As in, she doesn't know you, nor you her.

Earth First!
(We can strip mine the rest later.)

[ Parent ]
Goddamn, by blixco (2.00 / 0) #10 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:44:02 AM EST
look: I hate having to explain myself.  Assume I am incorrect.

Her is not a generic term here.  It is Her, as in that one female you'd like to X where X is anything from spend my life with to have sex with to kiss once passionately.

And if there is a Her, odds are she's at least peripherally aware of your existance and if she isn't then you're either a pathetic dolt or a stalker.  And no matter what, see, you get what's coming to you.

See?
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco

[ Parent ]
Good story. by lb008d (4.00 / 3) #5 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 05:22:26 AM EST
Reminds me of this:

Harry Burns: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally Albright: Why not?
Harry Burns: What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally Albright: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: No you don't.
Sally Albright: Yes I do.
Harry Burns: You only think you do.
Sally Albright: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry Burns: No, what I'm saying is they all WANT to have sex with you.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: They do not.
Harry Burns: Do too.
Sally Albright: How do you know?
Harry Burns: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally Albright: So, you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry Burns: No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally Albright: What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?
Harry Burns: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally Albright: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry Burns: I guess not.
Sally Albright: That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.

<Insert Fake Orgasm Here> {n/t} by Improbus (4.00 / 3) #11 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 06:03:57 AM EST




If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, the meal was cooked a long time ago. --- Oma Desala
[ Parent ]
I'll have by blixco (4.00 / 1) #14 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 07:00:30 AM EST
what you're having.
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco
[ Parent ]
Sorry Dude by Improbus (4.00 / 1) #18 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 08:00:42 AM EST
I ran out last Friday. :(



If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, the meal was cooked a long time ago. --- Oma Desala
[ Parent ]
Oh I know that feeling... by 606 (4.00 / 2) #13 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 06:59:37 AM EST
[nt]

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imagine dancing banana here
It doesn't feel like Spring in Colorado. by grendel (4.00 / 1) #19 Tue Mar 21, 2006 at 01:55:29 PM EST
It does in my pants though. I'm half distracted, at least half, with it. Of all the seasonal changes, this one gets me the most. Y'know once I tried:
When you want to meet the right girl, you simply walk up to her, you take her face in your hands, and you look her right in the eyes.  Say nothing, just absorb what she is feeling.  Then slowly lean forward and kiss her, gently, on the lips.  When you lean back, let your hands drop lightly to her neck, and then let go, but never take your eyes off of her.
It didn't work out too well. It was fun while it lasted though. Of course, I look about as much like one of those guys as I look like an electric can opener.

I remember Deana, I ran into her at Nellie's right before she left for Portland. She was always fun.

Take my word for what it is. | 21 comments (21 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback