Finally, A Post Unrelated to Senegal

I mean,  it’s only been a month, right?

Anyway, I checked my Twitter feed this morning.

I follow Neil Gaiman. He writes things, like graphic novels and other novels. I also follow a few friends, like my high school buddy named Francis. He writes, too. Much better than he bowls. He also follows Neil Gaiman.

Both are pretty bright fellows. Francis has 91 followers, and Neil has 1,599,455 followers. No big.

So, imagine my surprise when I see this:

But I guess I wasn’t really surprised. It was an inevitable eventuality. And, it’s not small talk, as you can see. It’s substantial stuff that has to do with writing and its effect on people’s real lives.

So, I have cool friends. Of course I do.

A Little Text Savvy

Me, to a guy friend:  Would any of your hot [distinguishing quality] friends be interested in going out?

Guy friend: They will have to ask their wives or [girlfriends]? There might be one though. Why who is asking?

Me: Just me. I haven’t been on a date in a while. 🙂

Guy friend: Well, we can fix that in a few weeks. This [sic] next two weeks are pretty intense.

Me: You’re a stud. Good luck with everything the next couple of weeks.

Now all I need to do is find someone to go out with in the meantime.

A Short Email Exchanged Related to the Last Post

This morning I sent:

Thanks for the photos. I’m sorry if it’s hard for you to comprehend how cute I am.

The recent reply:

Hey May,

For the record, your full-sized (okay, not saying much) snowshoeing photos are our new wallpaper here at [apartment number].

Thoughts on a comeback?

A Few More Photos from January 3

This is a great memory. I love how bright the snow is in the sun. I love the bluish underglow of the footprints in the snow. I love the sky in the framed shots with the arched trees over the trail. The fellow is my good friend, Ned, whom I love in a good-friend way. He took the photos. He’s really one of my best chums. We met back in 2003, and I’ve had so much fun bantering with him for almost eight years. Snowshoeing and Ned are a good combination. You should give it a try.

Maintenance

It used to be that we’d chat for a few minutes before class began, and that would earn me the privilege of staring at the back of his head for 50 minutes. Then after a week or two, our talking progressed to after class and walking to our next classes. It was cool. I was actually making a friend from a class, and sure, he’s a guy and I’m a girl, but we talked to each other about dates he’d been on or guys I despised, and he even said the perfectly right thing when I told him someone stood me up. Relative to each other, we seemed to be on pretty neutral ground.

Then for a couple weeks, it got a little weird. I’m a girl, and he’s a guy, after all. Maybe I clammed up, because I do that sometimes. And he started arriving to class just before the bell, then he’d run off before I had a chance to catch him. We’d normally talk about our weekends or interests or the kinds of friends we keep, usually after class. There’d be a little snarkiness but always some laughing. Then we’d split off to go to our respective classes, and I’d be feeling extremely dandy, thinking I was making a real connection with a human being I don’t live with or see at church.

Of course I stalked him. I found his phone number from the online student directory. Way too easy. I texted him once – just to make sure it was really his number – at least a month ago, and that probably was a little creepy, but he took it well. Also, if I really wanted to freak him out, I would have battered him with texts. Seeing him in class was enough for me. And, he’s only a friend.

He’s talked to me since the texting, but that doesn’t explain the avoidance, so maybe I was emitting some repulsive vibe, which, considering my disposition the last couple of weeks, is completely plausible. Seriously cranky. Seriously whiny. I definitely didn’t want to be near me, and I didn’t blame others if they felt the same way.

Outside of church, I spent most of Sunday writing a paper which happened to be for the class this guy is in. And it wasn’t like I was thinking only of him, because I was pretty focused on the paper, but it was probably the association that made me grab my phone and text him. I was tired of feeling like my relationships were crumbling, and this was a last ditch effort to salvage what I could. The worst that could happen would be awkwardness for the rest of the semester, which, if you’re me, is mostly how normalcy feels. The text said something like, “Hey, this is May from class. I’m a little sad we don’t talk as much anymore. I feel like I’ve been a poor friend. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, and I hope you’re having a good Sunday.”

No reply. And that was fine, because I was too busy pulling my hair out about the paper. I went to bed without giving the text a second thought. Out of my hands, anyway.

The next morning, he was late, just like a third of the class who were probably printing their papers to submit. I was relieved when he showed up; I wasn’t even nervous. And he seemed rather chipper. He commented more than usual, and I took brilliant notes of the class discussion.

Then the dismissal bell rang. I gathered my things, and he slung on his backpack. I’m not sure how it started, but we left the classroom and walked down the halls talking to each other about our weekends. He let me talk more, like he always does, and he laughed at my wise cracks. [Ignore this tangential and inappropriate question: Is it fitting that wise-asses have wise cracks? Is it bad manners to tell someone her wise crack is showing?] I tried sharing my umbrella with him, because Provo apparently needed a pre-winter washing. Then before he shot off to his class, we said goodbye to each other.

That’s a start.

For the rest of you, I have a whole lot of undoing to do. Please be patient.

My Brain Hurts Right Now

French homework takes way too much time. I was going to hike the Y today with the Frenchies, but 1)it’s too wet 2)it’s too cold for me and 3)I have way too much to do.

I like leading music, except sometimes I get impatient at the fermatas.

I made an effort to hang out with people yesterday. I’d forgotten about a dinner someone had invited me to after church. After my nap, I texted the person, and he said there were leftovers so I should come over anyway. I did, and a few people were still there just chatting. I ate dinner and talked a little with people. We watched a few news segments online, and I said something really funny, mostly because I can be really clever. After a half-hour or so, I had a little more social anxiety, plus the people who live there hinted at taking naps so I took my cue and said goodbye to people. I peeked into a bedroom where someone was playing the guitar. I asked if his apartment was going to do anything fun that evening, and he said they might play a game, and he said I should come play.

A few hours later, I went to Ward Prayer! and I stood aloof and watched people talk for a little while until someone asked me how I was doing. So she and I talked for a bit about what we were going to do for Presidents’ Day. Then I turned around and made a joke to the guy who invited me to play games and we laughed for a bit. He was talking to some of his guy friends who I didn’t know as well. Then someone came and invited these guys to listen to a song he composed on his keyboard, and I decided to tag along.

So probably eight guys or so and another girl and I filed into this apartment. We stood around for about 10 minutes. The recording wasn’t playing, so he said he’d fix it later. So we left this apartment and we started going our separate ways, but three other guys and I  stood outside for a few minutes and just talked about random things.  We laughed some more, mostly because we’re all pretty funny. After five minutes of hands in our pockets and shivering in the cold air, someone gets the bright idea to go inside and talk, so we end back up at the apartment where I went to dinner. So we watched some Olympics and ate leftover chips and seven-layer dip and made more jokes and watched bull-riding and never appreciated eight seconds more. At this point it’s just me and four guys, and it was pretty relaxing.

After a couple hours of hanging out, I went home. I had fun.

All without touching a single guy.

I’m sure the other blog is furious.