How Things Work in My Brain (Or, Further Evidence That I am an Idiot)

College has started for me and it is a magical experience.

The one thing about Tech that smacks you right in the hormones is that, as you cavort across campus you must hunt to find an unattractive lady.

This would be good news if you were not the type of man to attach yourself to a lady who was spoken for the majority of your school time then get pissy when she leaves.

Unfortunately that is precisely the type of man I am.

But college is a time of change, and so I have resolved myself (like Daniel) to change, and let the latent ladies man lurking beneath my gentle exterior burst forth like a beautiful mutant from a storm drain.

No longer will I awkwardly court women who are oblivious to my intentions (It's 11:11!) , or not talk to attractive women because they scare me.

My main strategy so far is to silently ride the bus across campus listening to my ipod and wearing dirty sweatshorts, (dirty sweatshorts are like spanish fly for sexy college women) while making it abundantly clear through a series of grimaces, squints, and self conscious whistles that I don't want to talk to anybody.

(That was a joke that kind of fell flat, i was trying to set it up like i was being all cool in college then juxtapose it against what i really do in the hopes of comedy gold)(It appears unsuccessful)

Luckily, being the idiot that I am, I am able to justify this isolationist strategy to myself (like James Madison) by concoting a ridiculously cliched scenario where I meet the woman of my dreams on a bus.

The scene is thus.

I amble onto the bus and take a seat near the back with a partition on my left and an empty seat to my right.

You may or may not know, but Ben Folds has a new LP coming out soon and I'm just stoked out of my mind. I got the new single off itunes (feat. Regina Spektor!) and it's pretty sweet.

So I've been jamming to Ben Folds all week and in this fantasy that I have concoted (on the bus) I am listening to the new single and trying to make sure at least the pointy tip of my faux hawk has not yet collapsed (it probably has), when an intoxicating woman walks on the bus.

She is petite with dark emo/scene hair, wide oval eyes, and a shy small smile that is quick to meet her lips whenever she makes eye contact with someone.

She is wearing dark eyeliner that only serves to enhance the hypnotic quality of her gaze and her complexion is so soft that she doesn't need make up.

She sits in the empty seat beside the partion, so she is beside me, but we are seperated by an angry peice of gray plastic.

I smiled at her when she first walked on but then went back to absentmindedly staring at the window/trying to sneak discreet glances at her figure.

In one of my super sneaky ogles I notice that she has 3 stars tattooed on her right bicep (cliche, I know, but this is my fantasy) and perhaps a cross with a verse on her right wrist, so I know she's down with JC.

If the verse was Rev 3:1-2, I'd know she was the one. Or even the phrase Wake Up!, that might be even better.

I change the song on my ipod and she glances at it.

She leans over the partition and asks, "Are you listening to Ben Folds?" I respond in the affirmative. "I love him! Have you heard the new single?" I reply that I am listening to it right now and then we go on to discuss the merits of the song, she shares my opinion that it sounds like Ben meets Sondheim, Regina is better than I am willing to admit, and we are both amused by the classic Ben Folds harmonizes with Ben Folds on this track (Eg, Jesusland, Not The Same).

At this point we get off the bus together, skip class, and just make out all day while listening to Rockin' The Suburbs.

Then we date, get married, and live happily ever after.

Also she reads my blog and thinks I'm funny.

Now if any of you are savvy readers (I love you all even if you aren't) you may realize, as I did, that I just essentially combined the love story plots of The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

If you are unfamiliar with those two works, the first is a novel by Milan Kundera, where two people fall in love over the book Anna Karenina. The allegory is more appropriate than I even realized because I think they totally bang after that!

So in this instance, Tolstoy = Folds, and Banging = Make Out Sesh.

Maybe I could do a modern reinterpretation of that classic work, like West Side Story.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a film by Michael Gondry where Jim Carrey falls in love with a girl on a train and then it gets all sci fi. But we will focus on the beginning of the movie.

In this film, Jim is a loner who takes the train to work and while absentmindedly scribbling in his diary (Magic Blog?) a precocious girl with DYED HAIR! bugs him until he talks to her. They proceed to talk and joke and long story short, they fall in love. Also I think he skips work and hangs out with her that day, so another parallel.

(I just realized that I was drumming along to my ipod and the other people in the SUB may
not appreciate that)

Does this ridiculously serendipitous situation speak to my immaturity? Have modern and classic romances emotionally stunted/gayed me up? (These aren't rhetorical, answer in the comments) I hope not. Is there not a certain kind of beauty in this old school romantic ideal, or is it just totally misguided?

I would like to explore this further, but I have class and have to jet, but if you are a beautiful girl and meet the aforementioned description, please get on the citibus at tech around 9:50 MWF and 12:15 Th.