A slightly off-topic comment before the blog begins: I hate Valentine's Day. For as long as I can remember, whether or not I was in a relationship during this paganistic Hallmark holiday, I've hated it. I love people all year round - why should I buy waxy overpriced chocolates and themed plush toys to prove it? Ladies and gentlemen, what I want for Valentine's Day is what I want for every other occasion during which you choose to dote on me: a great meal, a notable movie, and your undivided attention.
In your heart, in your throat, in your pants - chemistry. Love. That first look, that first thought you have about him, about her, about that stranger that makes you think dirty things, sweet things.
"In Times Square on V.J. Day I saw a sailor running along the street grabbing any and every girl in sight. Whether she was a grandmother, stout, thin, old, didn't make a difference. I was running ahead of him with my Leica looking back over my shoulder but none of the pictures that were possible pleased me. Then suddenly, in a flash, I saw something white being grabbed. I turned around and clicked the moment the sailor kissed the nurse. If she had been dressed in a dark dress I would never have taken the picture. If the sailor had worn a white uniform, the same. I took exactly four pictures. It was done within a few seconds." - Alfred Eisenstaedt, photographer.
So much for the romance we all saw in that picture.
The woman, later identified as Edith Shain, said she let the sailor kiss her because he'd fought for our country. Ok, that's not really chemistry. But he did something! Something bold!
Which is more than I can say for myself. I sat in the lounge across from the Berry Cafe in the William Oxley Thompson Library, the main library at The Ohio State University. I sat down with my book bag and my vegetarian eggplant sandwich and noticed a very cute fellah sitting on a couch perpendicular to my seat. He wore a v-neck t-shirt, a beret-esque hat, and had an androgynous, almost girlishly pretty face, and dark eyes. I haven't been very confident in myself since rediscovering the single life, but I smiled at him and he smiled back flirtatiously. I felt a little flutter in my chest. I looked up a bit later, and saw him looking at me again. We smiled at each other, and I felt my cheeks growing warm. 'Stop looking at him, Maddie, do your homework.' I didn't have the nerve to walk over and introduce myself.
This happened one or two more times, and finally he got up to leave. I watched him turn and throw away his drink (and I noticed his cute tooshie in the pale gray narrow jeans), and then immediately put my head down and tried to look engrossed in my book. He walked behind me to leave. I felt him pass behind me, and then I felt his hand on my shoulder. He gently, flirtatiously, squeezed my shoulder, and kept walking.
My heart raced as I watched him leave, and I immediately texted my four boy-smart confidants: my sister Marlana and my three best friends, Danielle, Katharine, and Kyla. Katharine and Danielle's responses were, "go to the same place next week and if he's there, go say hello!" Kyla's response was, "That's CREEPY!," and Marlana's response was "GO RUN AFTER HIM RIGHT NOW AND SAY HELLO BEFORE HE ESCAPES FOREVER!"
I did none of these things. But I thought about him, and looked for him as I went through my routines on campus the next day. I posted statuses about him on my Facebook page: "had a good, headache-free day, and eye-flirted with a hipster." "dear hipster, if you're out there, I'll respond to you next time!" And I talked about him constantly. Finally my friend Aaron told me a story that gave me a little confidence. He saw a girl in the cafeteria at his school and he was too afraid at first to go up and say hello. Then he said to himself, 'I'm a good-looking guy who's smart and funny. This shouldn't scare me.' He went up and gave her his number. Though she hasn't responded to him, Aaron said it really boosted his confidence.
When I visited New York this weekend, my cousin too told me I should just put myself out there, even if it's embarrassing. The trip to New York really gave me confidence - I visited some of my friends from Year Course, my dear friends Zach, Jenna, Yoni, and my ex-boyfriend Jason. Seeing them was so reaffirming that I have the ability to throw myself into a new situation and meet amazing people. (It also revealed to me that I'm finally over my infatuation of the ex, and am perfectly comfortable around him. I love my friends.)
So next time the hipsters and androgynous boys and sweet-looking library goers and dashing Indian boys in my philosophy class (his name is "Z" and he has Chris Pine-perfect jet black hair) metaphorically squeeze my shoulder - and actually, even if they don't - I'll be on the prowl. I know my name, maybe he'd like to know it, too.
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