me.mjec.net

Michael Cordover, the shy exhibitionist
This would be so much better if I had a life

Poll

ID: 110
opened 11 years, 5 months, 3 days and 5 hours ago
closed

What is the level of your cooking ability?

This poll closed 11 years, 4 months, 28 days and 5 hours ago.


Results:

Results
Option Votes %
I beat the Iron Chef 1 4%
I can make entire meals to feed my family 15 65%
I make one type of one course only 7 30%
I can do toast as long as you don't want butter 0 0%
I cook Red Lobster Smurf 0 0%

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stories

ID: 386 of 405
Tue 21st Feb 2006 [02:41]
(11 years, 8 months, 27 days, 17 hours and 28 minutes ago)

Ten days. I like that song (Missy Higgins). But in any case, my point is that it's been a ridiculously long time since I last blogged. I last blogged before Valentine's day and that seems like quite some time ago. That day I had breakfast around 11am in a random cafe in a laneway in the centre of Melbourne. With a girl no less! Not my valentine, I'm afraid, rather Jules. I'd direct those of you wanting sordid valentine's day stories elsewhere but I can't think of anywhere. I don't believe I've even read a sordid valentine's day story - not even on Desci's blog.

The past ten days have been strange more than anything. My life has had a whole heap of stuff that is new and different and strange. But the thing I'm going to blog about is only partially new. I started Calvin and Hobbes volume two. Sometime in 1988 there was a comic which has a much-quoted line: life isn't quite as quite as scary when you've got a best friend. That line made me cry. I'm not even sure why. But it did.

And now onto something I've wanted to say for a little while but didn't. Because it never quite comes out right. But this way it might. I'm going to speak a little bit about Sara. She's a girl I know. I've known for a little bit over a month. But I'll let her explain, then me explain, in this log of a conversation where we each explain our version of our meeting. Because it's certainly a story. Her real name is, in fact, Kristen and she has a blog.

wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
so okay i have this blog right, which i write in when i'm... when i need to vent, essentially... i never really expect people to read it, but apparently they do because this guy started posting comments about things i was saying
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
and i didnt know who he was, so i was obviously intrigued (as anyone would be by a mystery man, right?) and then one day he left an email address
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
and i thought it was fake, but upon careful consideration decided to email it and see what happened - worst case scenario some random and his friends have a laugh at my expense and who cares
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
so i emailed him, and he replied, and thus we started talking and discovered that we actually had an exceptionally large number of things in common - from music to personality traits to keeping weird diary things
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
and because of that, ig uess, we clicked really easily, and started talking a lot - i mean like in excess of kristen-josh quantities of talking
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
which was weird because i didnt even know his name - one night in fact i told him i wanted to be able to call him something, and true to how he always is he asked me to name him, soi called him adrian, and he called me sara - and ik know his name now, but adrian has stuck because it's mine (i know thats weird but whatever)
wait in the fire, courtesy of kristen says:
and i dont know, it's exceptionally hard to explain, but essentially.. he gets me... and nobody else will ever get me like that, on the level that he does

And now for my, longer, less succinct, crappier version of that story:

Adrian says:
One day I was bored and on the internet, a pair which often go together, and talking to some friends on IRC, when I was told that I had to sign up for a website called last.fm. It's a music website, it shows all the songs you listen to. Being bored and having bandwidth to spare, I did this, thinking it'd become another account I'd forget about.
Adrian says:
It very nearly did until a little while later, bored and reading the internet, I returned to my account and noticed "neighbours". people with similar musical taste, it seemed. So I checked out a few of them. One, claiming to be 17 and in Australia, had a blog. So to that blog I went, for there is little more entertaining than a blog.
Adrian says:
The first time I came across this blog it had one of those internet quizzes topmost and all I noticed was how similar the answers were to those I'd give. I mentioned this to Olivia but she dismissed it - i wasn't similar at all to this girl, she insisted. I checked back occasionally and each update said something with which I could associate
Adrian says:
one day, however, the blog owner, jaded, no doubt, by a particularly horrible boyfriend, made the outrageous claim that "all men are scum". Being myself I simply had to disagree. And feeling in a playful mood that afternoon, I didn't leave my name - I called myself some guy she hadn't met. It was true, after all, and might give her hope that there are nice guys she hasn't met
Adrian says:
it was to my great surprise that there was an entry soon after that entitled "to mr anonymous" - or words to that effect. And so a dialogue on whether or not all men are scum was started. Eventually I decied that I should start an email conversation with her. Not wanting to intrude, however, I thought I'd give her an option. So I set up a new email account.
Adrian says:
She emailed me, obviously sure that it was a fake address, obviously curious. And the first thing I got in response to my response was a request that I get msn. So I signed up that account for msn and spoke to her, still anonymous. Our first discussion was, for reasons nothig to do with last.fm, about music
Adrian says:
We have musical tastes surprisingly similar. But that wasn't the remarkable thing. The remarkable thing was that our second msn conversation - or one close to second, some time ridiculously early in our talking, when she still didn't know my name, or which state I was in, we spoke all night. Not just until two in the morning, but until I could see colour outside by sunlight
Adrian says:
The surprises didn't stop there. It happened again. And again. And again.
Adrian says:
I found myself able to talk to her forever. There was nothing I couldn't say, I knew her incredibly, and this was before I even had a name. Just before Australia day she was tired of referrign to me as "some guy" so I became Adrian. And she became Sara - spelled without an h, of course
Adrian says:
On Australia day we had a conversation by sms. More messages than I think I've ever before sent in a day. I was sitting on the beach listening ot JJJ and it was wonderful. She admited that she'd found my blog. And it was a little less exciting to no longer by so anonymous, and I was a little afraid she'd read and hate me, but all was fine.
Adrian says:
From then on we just spoke more. I'd hardly go twelve hours without some form of communication with her. Email, msn, text message.
Adrian says:
she was just like me in everything from musical taste to pizza taste. The connection is unlike any other I've had before. She understands me, absolutely.
Adrian says:
I can be absolutely myself with her. I never have to change who I am at all because she understands. And it's ridiculous.

So that's my story about Sara, pretty much. So if you see me reading a text message, or sending a text message, there's about an 80% chance it has something to do with her. Seriously, I checked my phone bill and calculated this. Sad, I know.

Well, that's all I have to say for today. Kind of filled the blog, didn't it? It did.

Comments:

Comments
11 years, 8 months, 27 days, 1 hour and 20 minutes agoClaraThat boring girl in Vietnam
This is a good entry. You are too cute.
11 years, 8 months, 26 days, 10 hours and 45 minutes agoHYou must meet Gumby at the Hotel California and get the cork
Ummm.....wow!

Comments are disabled.

Some days it's just not worth gnawing through the straps (Anonymous) Paul Newman defenestrates the black ukelele and the white shark. Naucci.