Where Are The Brakes On This Thing?!?!

         Okay. So there you are, sitting alone in your room (or not so alone if you have a roommate or a younger sibling) and you’re trying to fall asleep and you keep thinking about “that guy” and imagining a vast array of scenarios where he’ll sweep you away to a far away castle and make you the queen of some unknown country like Genovia or whatever. And then, you wake up in the morning and you check your phone and he hasn’t even texted you like you promised yourself he would and you really don’t wanna text him because that isn’t how the scenario is supposed to work out and if you’re the one to text him first than you can never know if he actually wants to talk to you or if he is just being polite and doesn’t wanna not respond. So, instead of doing anything proactive, you sit in your room all day, constantly refreshing your phone as if it is actually gonna make a difference, and stalking your (and when I say your I totally mean his) Facebook, seeing that once vibrant image of happily ever after slowly fading off the movie screen of your brain until you can’t even fathom how you had been able to see anything at all. BUT THEN…you see him randomly at some place, like when you step out to get lunch or something, and then you’re like “oh my gosh this is so it! It is so about to happen” and he gives you a hug and you melt away in his arms and then, even though there isn’t a marching band and a parade that he has hired to profess his love for you while he is playing a song he wrote on his guitar, you go back to your room in your rainbow and sunshine powered car with a fresh batch of movie magic endings to your non-existent love story. And, just like a shampoo bottle’s instructions, you continue to repeat.

            Now, you would think that the brain would catch on to the fact that what your dreaming of and what is actually happening are two strikingly different realities and would, in fact, be able to decipher the difference between what you have decided will happen and what really is happening for everyone else. I mean, seriously, it shouldn’t be this difficult to look out at the world and realize that the chocolate love river and the cotton candy clouds you are certain exist aren’t being seen by anybody else.

            Sure, your friends can tell you that you’re getting way ahead of yourself, you know like that stupid roadrunner that keeps on sprinting even though the cliff ended like 15 minutes ago. Goodness! It’s almost ridiculous how, no matter what everyone around you keeps screaming, you just keep on living in your dream world and like the little engine that could, your freaking imagination continues chugging up that mountain of disappointment saying to itself “I think I can. I think I can” until it has drowned out all the friendly (and much more sane) advice of the other trains smartly taking a less treacherous path. Unfortunately, however, this little engine can’t actually control the things it’s claiming and seeking to control. Yeah, you can keep pushing yourself forward, but at the end of the day, if someone else made the track a dead end, you’re still not gonna get where you wanna go.

            Guess that’s the price we pay to live in a society where people have (at least in theory) free will. Like, you can do everything right, play the game perfectly, flirt like a freaking pro, but that doesn’t necessarily affect the path that other people have made for themselves and you, inevitably, have gotten stuck on. I mean, sure you’re the so-called captain of your own train, but if you can’t make a drop off at someone else’s station it doesn’t matter how fast you get there (or even the climb for you Miley fans) because you’re never gonna be able to manipulate the train schedule of someone else’s reality.

            Basically, you can dream all night long and wish the whole day away, imagining the next big Hollywood blockbuster romantic comedy in which you play the naïve, but gorgeous heroine and your latest “that guy” takes on the super hot, but doesn’t know it, soft, sensitive, nerdy hero, but when push comes to shove your just gonna be disappointed by the reality that has been molded around you by everybody else’s agenda. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have a fantasy life, it just sucks when every day turns into a disappointment because it couldn’t possibly live up to the expectations that have been set for it. Sure, your little engine that could made it all the way to the top (woohoo!) but, don’t forget, what comes up must come down, and free-falling from that hill of fantastical romance into the pit stop of the real world is a wake-up call that isn’t worth all that hard work it took in the first place.

            XOXO

                          E 

The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Three (part three)

           With that, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out my bright blue, and bedazzled, phone, which was blinking red indicating a new text message.

       “Hey! Give that back! It doesn’t belong to you”

       “I dunno Finkles…” He said, putting the phone above his head and out of my reach, “I mean, you haven’t been very nice to me, and I’m thinking I should just go put it back where I found it.”

       Like an idiot, I jumped for my phone, desperate to see who had texted me and hoping beyond all reason that it was him, asking me to meet him for lunch or something.

       “Come on little Finkles, jump! Jump!” Warren said bouncing the phone up and down so that it was always just a little beyond my fingertips.

       “Just give it back to her already” Deanna snapped, obviously annoyed that he had stopped focusing on her. 

       “Alright, alright” Warren said, unruffled, “but first, Finkles has to tell me who her secret admirer is.”

       My heart literally skipped I beat. I swear, if you had put a stethoscope to my chest at that moment you would have heard the ventricles and atria freezing up for half a second and my whole body time out. 

       “What are you talking about?”

       “'Hey! Now you have my number. I’ll text you tonight after I figure out the plans. Thanks. BF.'” Warren read off the glowing screen of my phone.

       Let me be very clear here, no greater text has been written in the history of humanity. Sure, it wasn’t poetic or anything, I’m sure Shakespeare probably coulda said it better if they had had cellphones back then, but still, he had texted me, a text from him to me existed, and that was all I really needed to let my imagination run wild.

       There we were, in the empty theatre, standing beside the ghost light, me laughing about something hilarious that he just said, him smiling with his green eyes sparkling in the dim light. A piece of my hair gets caught in my lipgloss as I laugh, and he leans down to put it back into place. In that instant, our eyes lock, and then he is kissing me, and not some sort of PG peck that happens at the end of a kid’s movie, I’m talking a PG-13 full make-out kiss, the kind of kiss that legends are made of.

       “Oh Finkles, you still with us?”

       I broke out of my fabulous daydream to Warren waving a hand in front of my face. Quickly, I composed myself, rubbing my lips together to try and distract from the fact that they had unintentionally began to pucker as I thought about my first kiss.

       “So who is this BF guy? You’re boyfriend?!” Warren cooed, making kissing sounds like he was some five year old who has just watched two people kissing on TV or something and feels the need to mock it so that nobody knows he secretly wishes he could try it.

       “None of your business Warren” I said, grabbing my phone from him and turning away to hide the smile.

       “Finkles has a boyfriend. Finkles has a boyfriend” Warren chanted in classic middle-school boy fashion, dancing around like some sort of giant clown.

       Rolling my eyes at his childishness, I gestured to Deanna to leave. Even though she smiled and nodded, I could tell by the way she brushed past me, forcing me to follow her to our lunch spot, that she was not happy with the reaction I had gotten out of Warren. 

The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Three (part two)

           But whatever, she is usually pretty nice to me, and we always eat lunch together when she doesn’t have rehearsal for her a cappella group or the latest musical or some sort of theatre competition. Sometimes, we even sit in a practice room and write music together. I’m not great at the music part, but sometimes she takes my poems that I write in my creative writing class and adds melodies to them and it’s actually really cool.

       Anyway, after fourth period, which is probably my least favorite class (pre-calculus – EWWW!) I rushed out into the quad to meet Deanna in our usual spot so I could brag to her about my encounter with him.

       Of course, when I finally spotted her through the hoards of kids spilling out for lunch, she was standing with none other than Warren Joslin. You remember, the guy who was laughing at me in the nurse’s office, the infamous H.E.L.L heartthrob. I guess I shouldn’t have been that surprised, Deanna had been nipping at his heels for like forever. I mean, I’d hoped once all the older theatre guys had started asking her out she would move on already, but of course, Warren always lured her back to him with his fancy guitar playing and his smile.

       “Hey girlie!” Deanna called, waving to me as she walked toward me. I couldn’t help but notice that Warren had his hand possessively on her lower back, just high enough to not be too sketchy but low enough to indicate what exactly he was thinking. I felt my stomach turn.

       “Hey Finkles” Warren smirked, “I probably shouldn’t get too close huh?”

       Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that Warren had decided to call me Finkles after he finally learned what my last name was last year. I mean, sure, I had only gone to school with him for like 9 billion years and had actually sat like three people in front of him when we sat alphabetically all through elementary school, but whatever.

       Anyway, he thought the nickname was absolutely adorable and, although I acted like I hated it, I secretly loved the fact that he had made the name stick. I mean, in a weird way it made me feel sorta special, which I knew was stupid cause he came up with nicknames for everyone. Everyone except Deanna that is. Even though she would never admit it, I knew how much she hated it every time he called me Finkles, which just made me feel awful because, in some horrible way, I kinda liked that it bothered her. You know, cause it was like something I had that she didn’t.

       “Shut up Warren.” I said, hoping that I had successfully hid the smile and warm bubbly feeling that had hit me as soon as he used the name. Figuring I would fail miserably at disguising myself, I turned to Deanna, crossing my fingers that Warren would get the hint and just walk away. 

       “I sorta missed creative writing today, so I didn’t get back my latest poem”

       “What happened? Noa running late again?” Deanna asked. I could tell from her tone that I had been right about being  unable to mask my joy and I felt a twinge of guilt as she shrugged out of Warren’s reach.

       “You didn’t hear? Little Finkles here took a tumble this morning and wound up in a shouting match with the nurse. Isn’t that right Finkles?” Warren answered for me, leaning over to ruffle my hair.

       “Warren! Cut it out!” I said, secretly praying that I sounded assertive like they taught us in that bullying class, but about 150% sure I still sounded like a giggling schoolgirl hopped up on raging hormones and a dash of nitrous oxide.

       “Someone’s feisty.” Warren laughed, ignoring the death glare I was now focusing all my energy on giving him. “You would think you’d be nicer to the guy who grabbed your phone out of the evil nurse’s office for you.”

Hold On...Haven't I Seen That Rock Before?

      Ever get the feeling you’re trapped in one of those horrible carnival corn mazes, walking the same damn narrow corridors through all that dirt and, even when you’re sure you went left this time instead of right, you always wind up somewhere in the middle of the maize (clever!) like six columns over from that glorious exit? Oh, and then you finally ask someone for directions and they start patronizingly rattling off a list of turns and steps that you swear you followed exactly and yet you're still rushing past the same gosh-darn plants like an idiot? Yeah, welcome to the club.

            I mean, luckily life isn’t covered in itchy, bug-infested corn (at least not until ethanol powered cars take over) but still, it’s like we’re playing that maze on the back of the kid’s menu and we’re the two-year old constantly running our crayon into the walls, looking for the same shortcuts every time and always getting stuck at the same dead ends. If you think about it, it all sounds sorta hopeless. Here we are, thinking we’re growing and learning from our mistakes when, in actuality, we’re just fooling ourselves into falling for old traps.

            Seriously, like pathetic test mice, we constantly let the masterful “that guy” put us in that tiny box and than we keep hitting the stupid lever hoping for love but always receiving that nasty shock instead. And, although “that guy” has more tricks up his sleeve than Houdini, the truth is, all he really needs to do is that lame “pick a card, any card” crap and even when you've watched him place your card the wrong direction in the deck, you’re still shocked every time he gets it right and fall at his feet like some starstruck first-grader.

            Sheesh! You would think we’d get sick of running the same circles over and over again, digging ourselves deeper and deeper into the ground until we’ve basically buried ourselves alive (or created ridiculous crop circles that hundreds of years from now scientists will swear is some bizarre alien communication) I mean, I know they say it’s good to recycle and all that, but trust me, taking the same approach and winding up in the same place time and time again isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, you would think that you’d have a better handle on it, be able to navigate the trail a little more easily, keep an eye out for that pesky dip in the road you always seem to fall into. But, despite popular belief, what actually happens is you ultimately find yourself spending the same time obsessing over “that guy” and wasting the same energy over-analyzing “that guy’s” every move until you end up crying the same tears and eating the same tub of cookie dough (and for you annoying people who take everything literally - no it's not actually the same tub - that would be silly)

            The worst part is, it’s not even that you can’t tell you going down the same road, Rather, you see that sign that says “danger ahead” and you think  “hell I’ve done this before, I’m not afraid of a little danger, danger is exciting,” So, you stumble off down that rocky road until you find yourself splattered on the violent shores of unrequited love and then, like some cruel videogame, come back to life at that very fork in the road where you chose danger. But, like a fool, you start down the same damn road, until halfway through you wind up looking around and thinking “hold on...haven’t I seen that rock before?” and wishing that you had the strength to just turn around, all the while knowing that you’re gonna just keep going back anyway, so you might as well finish it off.  

           Of course, in the end, you never get the happy ending you want, because the same equation isn’t gonna magically present different results, but you still can’t stop that annoying optimistic voice in your head that promises this time will be different, this time will be special, this time will be right.

            My advice, take a lesson from good old Robert Frost. Not the part about going out into the woods alone or whatever, that seems kinda dangerous and a little too nature-y for my taste, but the whole meaning of the poem about taking the road less traveled by. I mean, it doesn’t even have to be a road that other people aren’t taking, just maybe one you haven’t tried before. You may surprise yourself! And if not, at least you won't feel like a total dunce when you get to the end of it and realize that you haven't actually gone anywhere at all.

            XOXO

                        E

            

The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Three (part one)

      As I sat through the rest of my morning classes, wishing I could do that thing they do in sitcoms where the clock hands move super fast and everyone taps their toes in anticipation of the bell, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had texted me yet, and of course, where the heck my freaking phone was. I mean, I knew I had it in the morning, before the fall, so I figured it must be in the nurse’s office. Of course, the prospect of having to go back into that room and converse with the evil witch that lives there was anything but appealing, even to talk to him.

       Okay, okay. I guess that isn’t entirely true. I mean, I’d probably travel through the 9 layers of hell (or however many that Dante guy talked about) just for one hello from the guy, but whatever, I’m attempting to appear less desperate. My “best friend” Deanna keeps trying to tell me that “love’s gonna come when I least expect” or some cliché crap like that and I keep telling her that, that may be, but I’m always gonna be looking for it so it better be coming when I expect it also or I’m totally screwed.

       Oh yeah, just to clarify, I like to call Deanna my best friend, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. I mean, we hang out a lot, and we get along really well, and I think she likes me and all that jazz, but she is sorta popular and sometimes she ditches me, I wanna believe unintentionally, to hang out with the cool crew. I try not to put too much pressure on the relationship, cause like, I kinda need her and stuff, but sometimes I feel like I let her use me when she has nobody better to hang out with.

       Like, Deanna is the type of girl who seems to just get the things that she wants. You know the type. The girl that doesn’t study before a test and still gets a better grade than you, or buys one raffle ticket and wins when you spent two months allowance buying as many tickets as you could, or borrows your clothes and gets a million and twelve compliments even though nobody even noticed you when you wore it. Yeah, she’s that girl.

       I guess I should feel grateful or whatever that we’ve stayed friends, since she obviously is way too cool for me. Truth is though, it wasn’t always like that, like back in middle school Deanna was just as big a nobody as me. But then, when we started high school, she got into all this music stuff cause she has a rock star voice and then, abra cadabra, suddenly everybody wanted to be her friend.

       It’s not like I’m not happy for her, though. Like, I really do think she is fabulous, and I love that people are finally noticing her cause she really does have an incredible voice, like a cross between Adele and Christina in a Taylor Swift body. I guess, if I’m being totally honest with myself, I’m just really jealous of her. I mean, she found herself, you know? She found her place in high school and probably the world, and I’m still like floating through the world kinda half-assing it through everything I do and nowhere close to finding out who the hell I’m gonna be. 

The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Two (part three)

        Seriously, sometimes I honestly wonder if I’m the practical joke of the universe. Of course, I have absolutely zero idea what I’m supposed to say to him now, since he is watching me with those wide, green eyes, hand outstretched, probably regretting that he had ever opened his mouth in the first place.

       “Umm…I…uh…I can’t seem to find my phone” I stammered, flashing what I hoped was an apologetic smile rather than the nausea induced grimace I was sure actually had taken over my face.

       “No worries. Just program in your number and I’ll text you so that you have mine.” He said, smiling as he passed me his phone.

       Focusing all my energy on not shaking as I typed in my name, and resisting the urge to name myself “Your Future Wife Miriam Finklestein”, I entered my number into his beautiful Iphone 4. It was funny. I mean, half the kids at my school have the Iphone, of course I don’t because that would violate my mom’s brand rule, but somehow his felt special. Yeah, yeah, it’s probably just because I think about the fact that his hands are all over it the whole day and he keeps it in his back pocket sometimes and he may even sleep next to it (please remember I’m not creepy just observant) but still, it felt warm and perfect in my hand.

       To be honest, a part of me didn’t want to hand it back to him. Not like I was gonna add it to some sort of shrine or something (at least not right away) but how movie moment magical would it be if I like stole his phone and then gave it back to him and he fell in love with me and we lived happily ever after. Sure, that usually happens when the two people have never met each other first, and the guy usually calls and just hears the girl’s voice or he calls and someone else picks up and he isn't expecting the model-esque bombshell that meets him at a coffee shop to give back the phone, but whatever, it could work for me too.

       Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be surfing my brain waves and took the phone out of my hand, tucking it back into his jeans pocket.

       “So…I’ll see you around, I guess.”

       “Yeah. For sure.”

       “Bye”

       “Bye”

       With a sigh, I watched him walk away, pulling his iconic pizza delivery bag over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd of students that were now sprinting full-speed to class. Like any love struck teenager, I of course failed to notice that the tardy bell had already rung and instead was watching the place where he had just stood, running the whole scene through my mind and, as always, wishing I had said something different so that I would have been super desirable and he would have whisked me away to behind the gym where all the popular kids hook-up during class and all that jazz. But of course, as I'm not even that good of a student in 11th grade basic science, I haven't figured out time travel yet and thus am doomed to a life of constant regret.
      Anyway, once the hallway was actually completely empty, I came to and, still giddy from the encounter, rushed off to my next class.

The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Two (part two)

          “You fall a lot don’t you,” He said, from somewhere above me and slightly to the left. His voice had laughter in it, which I definitely did not expect since I had just pummeled him like he was bowling pins and I was one strike away from my perfect game.

       “Yeah. I guess today just isn’t my day.” I said, with a giggle, attempting to stand up in a graceful-ish fashion (obviously I was unsuccessful.)

       Once standing, I could see that, despite being mauled, he still looked absolutely perfect. His curly, reddish-brown hair was mussed up just enough to look cool but not like he was trying too hard. His eyes, a rich green, were wide but friendly looking, like a meadow or something. His lips, I hate to say it, were super pink and inviting, like the lollipop lips they give out before Valentine's day for us losers who don't have actual lips to kiss.

       After a moment of standing in awkward silence, as we both brushed ourselves off, trying to get rid of whatever disgusting gunk had attached itself to our bodies from the hallway floor, he said “So, I’m actually glad I ran into you.”

       Okay, so I’m not joking here. I know, it sounds too good to be true. It sounds like we are heading down a road of gumdrop rain and candy corn trees, where fantasies come true and everyone rides around on unicorns all day, but I swear to you, that is what he said. Of course, I’m sure he didn’t mean it quite so literally, but the basic sentiment of the statement remains the same. HE WANTED TO SEE ME!! I actually heard the little voice in my head screaming in excitement! Honestly, it took all of my self-control not to hug him right there on the spot and profess my undying devotion and tell him I had already picked out our kids’ names.

       “Oh really, what for?” I replied, trying to keep my voice even and hoping that he didn’t notice the fact that I could not stop smiling.

       “You do costumes and like art and stuff for the theatre program here right?”

       “Umm…yeah…I mean I guess…”

       If I had died at that moment, I swear to goodness I would have been content. I mean, sure, it would have been better if he had pulled me close and kissed me full on the mouth, but in my brain his words had just done the exact same thing. He knew what I did!!! Not that it was anything too exciting, but still, he noticed what I did!

       “Okay cool. Well, my mom is running this thing at the elementary school for my little brother, and umm, she wanted me to ask you about maybe working on the show or something. I guess like someone told her that you do theatre or something. I dunno.”

       Not even the fact that his mom had to tell him who I was could ruin this moment. He was asking me to spend time with him. There he was, standing in front of me, inviting little old me, wallflower and nobody Miriam Finklestein, to spend time with him.

       “Oh. Yeah. That sounds cool. Umm…when exactly is it and like how much of a time commitment.”

       Truth was, I didn’t really care how much time it was gonna take. In fact, I was secretly hoping he was gonna be like “it’s gonna take like five hours a day every day from now until the end of time.”

       “I’m not really sure. It shouldn’t be too much. Why don’t we like, exchange numbers or something and I can let you know more when I know.”

       Hands shaking, and sweating, I clamored through my bag to find my cell phone. Seriously, I had imagined this moment so many freaking times, and here it was, here he was, standing in front of me offering me his phone to put my number in so he could call me later.

      Now, as you probably are all too aware, whenever your mind betrays you into having some sort of expectation for something the actual moment doesn’t go anything like it does in your mind, and then you're totally disappointed by a moment that otherwise would have been absolute perfection. For me, of course, right now was no exception. There I was, the guy of my dreams finally asking for my phone number AND giving me his in return, and I'm fumbling through my bag like an idiot only to find that, surprise surprise, my phone is missing!