GRAVY!

PSYCHO!GROUPIE!COCAINE!CRAZY!

2006-05-18 — 12:05 p.m.

 

So I've been hanging out in NY by myself lately. Ok, I'm not literally by myself. My parents, my Yia Yia, and my Thea are all here. But they all go to bed at 7:30. And my Yia Yia goes shopping all day, whereas my mom never leaves the house. It's good times here, folks, good times. I have two friends that live here, but neither of them has returned my calls. So there goes that. My sister and nephew were here last weekend, so that was fun, but now they're back in Colorado. My brother will be here next weekend. That'll be good. Then I'm going back to Ryan in PA/DE. Anyway, the point of this entry was not to give an itinerary of my ridiculously boring life, but to share with you all this embarassing factoid:

When I am left to my own devices, stripped of most meaningful interactions with human beings, I fall in love with people on TV. It all started when I was in fifth grade and sincerely believe that I had a deep connection with Donatello of the Ninja Turtles. Yes, I knew that he was a turtle, and a reclusive sewer-dweller, and above all, a cartoon, but that didn't matter. We were meant to be. As I matured into the stages of early teenagerdom, I moved on and fell for various wrestlers, most notably Marty Jennety and Mr. Perfect. Yes, there was fanfic. No, I am not proud. Yes, the fanfic continued for far, far too long. As I entered high school, I actually got a real boyfriend, and I realized that Fox Mulder was probably too old for me anyway, and I turned my attention to falling in love with a real person.

Then college, yadda yadda yadda. Too much personal drama to get attached to people on TV.

Grad school. Lots of time by myself. Just because you marry some guy doesn't mean he's always home, especially when he's in law school and you're done with your exams and even though you should be working on your dissertation, you're at home watching DVDs of Dawson's Creek all day. I believed I've already informed you of my recent infatuation with Pacey Witter. Well, I finished watching the second season, and have yet to get my hands on any of the other DVDs, so the Pacey love has started to wane a bit. Plus, when Ryan finished his semester, I remembered how far superior it is to love an actual person who can interact with me. But then he started his new job in Delaware, and I've been, as I said, stuck here in NY by my lonesome.

Ok ... before I tell you about my new virutal flame, I would first like to point out that I've evolved. Donatello - obviously that would never have worked out. He was, after all, two-dimensional. And although I had lots of pretend conversations with him (or at least, the sticker of him I had on my wall), I knew it was all in my imagination. Ditto with the wrestlers. What were early 90's wrestlers other than live-action cartoons? As for Mulder - I knew in my heart he was meant for Scully, and I suppose I never got that attached. Now, if you go back and read my entry on Pacey Witter, you will see that I was completely aware that he is a fictional character--an entirely separate entity from the actor who portrayed him. You will also note that I only wanted one date with him. I saw no prospect of us having any meaningful relationship, especially since he's a fictional character and I'm married.

So now ... it's come down to this. Elliot Yamin from American Idol. Don't tell Ryan. He'll never let me hear the end of it. Look, I know Elliot isn't really "hot" in the traditional Pacey Witter sense of the word ... and no, I don't know him any more than I knew Marty Jennetty ... but at least he's a real person. At least, I'm pretty sure that he is. Or whatever. I'm just a sucker for the goofy-looking, perpetually crying, soft-spoken underdog who loves his mama (are there any words that describe Ryan less? Hi, Ryan!)

Now that Elliot's been voted off AI, I guess it's time to move on. I'll be going back to PA again on Monday, so I suppose it's best that it worked out this way anyway. I've dated four guys at once before (oh, 2002, what a crazy year you were!), and it wasn't pretty. I'm a one-man woman now. Elliot, I'm sorry it had to be like this. Shine on, you crazy diamond. I'll probably buy your CD and tell people I'm listening to System of a Down.

I've got to get out of this house.

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