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Sunday, November 11, 2007

Myspace Migration: Book Excerpt

Ok, have a good plot line built in this re-write and now need the two mains to begin dating. Working on 'Her' point of view first; feedback is appreciated.

"You have to date." Janet stated with an authoritative glance as we rounded the 6th of 24 laps on our Saturday morning walk. I avoided answering while taking a swig of my Chai Soy Latte. "I'm not kidding Christina; eventually you're going to have to put yourself back out there."
"Eventually I will. Seriously, Janet; between the kids, work, and maintaining the house; when do you propose I do it? And how attractive IS that, anyway? I can just see it now: We're having drinks at the bar, some guy saunters up and strikes a decent conversation. I like him, he's witty and reminiscent of John Cusack. Then, I say what? 'I like you, you're funny... let's have date. I'm free on Saturdays.' He's going to think I'm married or in some other way unavailable. Or high-maintainence. Or crazy. Or both. My life isn't set up for dating." I go in to take another swig; but, I've finished it already. There goes my ability to dodge.
Janet stopped to tie her shoe; I took it as an opportunity to speed-walk my way to the trash can to ditch my empty Starbucks cup. I popped in my earbuds and turned on my Ipod, hoping when Janet caught up, she'd take the hint. It comes to mind that the Ipod has become as big of a staple in the American household and the community of commerce as Starbucks. Just as nobody says they're going to get coffee anymore, you never hear someone call an MP3 player anything other than an Ipod. But why not? If you've ever seen an Ipod, you can see how that would be. They're sleek, yet cute; and basically easy to function. And who doesn't love the Apple emblem? Like Starbucks, the Ipod had become something of a status symbol. For myself, I have a shuffle, the Nano, the Classic and am jonesing for the newest of the I-gadets: the IPhone. Of course, it'll be after I pay for Lauren's school camp and Maddie's new wardrobe before I splurge on something like that.
"Christina...hello...Earth to Christina..." Janet had not only not gotten the hint, she was refusing to let me ignore her long enough FOR her to get it. Fine. If we're going to have to have the conversation, might as well get it over with.
"Janet, even IF my crazy schedule isn't a turn-off; I don't even know how to meet a guy. I was married as an infant; I've never done the adult dating thing. Not really. I don't think my relationship with Brad or James even count - Brad was a friend... it was a convenience thing more than anything. And I ran into James. Literally ran into him. We were complete chance; I am pretty sure Geico will drop my insurance if I run into every cute guy I pass on the way to work." I pondered that for a moment longer, though; it was kinda funny.
I guess Janet thought it was, too; she did that little snorty-giggle thing that I'm fairly positive landed her Jay. On me, it'd be obnoxious; on her, it gets her a husband. Go figure. "Ok, I was kind of hoping you'd say that. Don't be mad at me, but I got you a gift subscription to EHarmonious."
Brow furrowed, I ask, "EHarmonious? That dating site... the one with the obnoxiously happy couples that talk about how their world turned around over emails? They sell GIFT subscriptions for that? You subscribed me to a site where I can't even pick my own dates?"

"Helloo.... have you seen your track record? You really don't need to pick your dates. Anyway, they match you off of the inside stuff; and that's the stuff that counts. I say we ditch the rest of our walk and go get you set up. It's perfect!"
"God, you sound like a high-school cheerleader. And while I will find a way to not be pissed that you are not only meddling in my non-existant love life in conversation, but actually meddling in it.... I'll fill out the profile on my own. Want to jog the next lap?"
"Christina, you don't jog!"

"Ah, but see... if we jog, we don't talk. And I think that is a brilliant reason to jog." Without waiting for an answer, I pop in the earbuds and take off; not even caring about the fact (and I'm sure it was a fact) that I look absolutely retarded.


The cursor has been blinking for half an hour. I have NO idea what to say about myself. And I don't really see why I should have to; that quiz was in-depth enough to cover everything. What could I say that it didn't already ask me? Headline: _________ Headline? As a Marketing major, I realize that I'm advertising MYSELF to whatever men are out there advertising themselves; but, there's something somewhat distasteful about having to craft a ad about yourself, in hopes of luring someone to respond to you. But there the cursor was, continuing to blink at me. Headline.... Sassy Divorcee In Search of John Cusack. No. Executive Mom Seeks... Nothing? I don't. I'm not LOOKING.... that's the problem with this whole thing.

I'm.Not.Looking. I want someone to be looking for me. Something told me this wasn't going to get the job done, though. Darnit; I'm going to have to call Janet if I ever want to be done with this. I sigh as I dial her number. "I don't know what to say."
Though I'll never admit it because it would hurt her feelings; my stomach totally sank as I heard her squeal, "Oh-My-Gosh, Yay! I'll be right over."

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