FIREFOX Users! I have no idea why the colors get weird and I am saddly too stupid to change it. Don't strain yourself... Just ask someone who CAN read it to translate it for you!

Saturday, January 19, 2008


Here I float in the deep sea of “Hey I know you” with Marvin. I’ll tell you why I call him Marvin. Later, I will tell you why the recognition scares the life out of me.

I call him Marvin because I have been trying, valiantly, to resist him since the moment he sent me the first email proclaiming that he adores me. I say “trying” because there was no actual resisting going on, just a lot of trying. And one night in the dark womb of my bed with the sleepy penny baby ear pressed near to the low speaker phone, I am doing the “you hang up, no you hang up” thing without saying the words when he said something to me that caused an actual physical TUG in my body. How can words spoken by someone 80 plus miles away over the phone operate as a biological magnet to tug your body one little smidge closer to theirs?

I made a noise. (Do you know that little sound you make when you start to fall from the top of the rollercoaster? That was it. I made the “I’m falling” noise). Apparently, it was an ambiguous noise. He is concerned. Do I laugh at him? Do I mock him? What’s with the noise!?! So, in an effort to reassure him because god-please-do-not-go-away I say “You’re Marvin.”

You know that little Martian from the cartoons?

“Resistance is futile.”


Blogger JulieB said...

Pretend you are a trustworthy male father figure and take a look at this guy.
What do you see?

I can say that, though, because I had an incredible dad. So who in your life do you trust? Explain Marvin to that person.
Now what do you see?

I prefer my rose colored glasses. Yes, I'm sometimes disappointed, but often when I really get to know that person, they are better than what I thought I saw.

I chatted up a cute guy in a uniform. I'm a sucker for uniforms. Really stupid since I vote liberal and over-protective males give me a rash. But this Marine (geez, what was I thinking?) turned out to have a small farm out close to the coast, writes poetry, loved my dog, and brings me flowers. He is also often away doing what Marines do. So I work, see my friends, and write him letters and he occasionally writes back.
This is good for me as my usual is to wrap the other person so completely around me I forget who I am. Can't happen here. Maybe there's hope?

9:09 PM  

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