Thursday, April 28, 2005

How the Happily Taken Can Sound So Wise....

And here is one of my favorite bloggers, giving advice like the "smug-married" he is (the female readers will understand that reference). I for one can relate to the paralyzed shy guy. I too, once asked someone out. I was in 10th grade. It went something like this: Jamie was this adorable 11th grader, a whole year older than me and much more mature than all the other guys. I was a chubby 10th grader with bad fashion sense and frizzy hair, who worked on the year book, an award winning tome with excellent photography. I was chosen (read: finagled and begged) to take the pictures of a concert put on by a hand-picked group of singers from our choir, of which Jamie was a part. I can't begin to describe the way my eyes caressed his (mousy) brown hair and soft (weak) brown eyes. His small (miniature) stature did nothing to detract from his golden (cracking) tones and ringing tenor. I developed the photos myself, and had the lab make two copies. I kept the other set of copies, picked out the ones in which he featured (which was practically all of them), and kept them in my journal. For weeks, I pined over his sweet face in the photos and (seemingly) gentlemanly behavior in class. Because I attended so many different schools (10 by the time I graduated high school) I attended junior classes that year. My stomach would be sick and tied in knots everytime I entered the algebra II class, knowing he would be sitting only two rows to the right, one row up. We vied for top place in the class, and each week, the teacher would read off who had taken the lead. I was thrilled when she read his name, hoping he would see how perfect we were for each other - what with being so close in algebraic computation brilliance, of course. I finally worked up the nerve to make my feelings known, via a short note that I pressed into his hand one day in the hallway as he opened his locker. I hurred away, my body wracked with chills and sticky sweat. My face was red, and I barely made it through to the final bell before rushing to the bathroom to wretch over the porcelain bowl. I had given him my number, and asked if he would like to go miniature golfing. I sat by the phone, refusing to go anywhere. I couldn't eat or sleep. That was Friday - he finally called me on Sunday, and said yes. I was elated. But he said he had to ask his mom and that he would get back to me with the final answer. I waited for days, surreptitiously watching him in class, wondering if he could hear the pounding of my blood in my ears. It seemed so loud. I continued to wait. Until nearly a week later....and I heard snickers when I walked down the hall. Everytime I passed an upperclassman, he/she would look away, usually smiling or smothering a giggle. As I was to discover later, he had told the ENTIRE class. Shown them my note, and ridiculed me. I had to live with the embarrassment for a whole other year, until he finally graduated. And every day I saw him in class, and would look away, my face hot with emotion. So I'm with you poor nervous guys who are fearing rejection. I swore I'd never ask another guy out, and I never have. That is not to say that I still wouldn't do it. I'm much more comfortable with myself now. But that incident scarred me for life! The follow-up: I did get revenge, without ever intending to. I started starving myself in 11th grade, to no avail. The pounds poured on, and soon I was a very full size 14 (and even that was tight.) At 5'3", I'm small, and a size 14 is definitely overweight. I was so hopeless, we had to pay a complete stranger to take me to my junior prom. Yes, folks, we are talking pure humiliation. (Jamie took his sister - at least I didn't have to resort to incest!) During the summer between my junior and senior year, I joined a weight loss group, similar to Weight Watchers. By Christmas, I was down to a size 4 (I was also addicted to exercise, but that is another story). I looked so good - still not a guy hit on me. Jamie had gradusted the year before, but during our Christmas Cantata, a friend pointed out that Jamie was in the third row from the front. Later, my friend told me that Jamie couldn't take his eyes off me. Someone who was friends with Jamie asked me if I was seeing anyone, as Jamie had asked him to inquire. Thankfully, I was, or I might have weakened and tried to see if he was really interested. Nonetheless, it was good to know that I got a little of "mine" back.