The One With The Word On The Street.

Dear Lover,

There's something I think you should know.

I'm a smart, confident lady.

Have common sense.

And can figure my way out of a jam.

Chalk it up to all those Baby-Sitter's Club books I read as a young girl.

And episodes of MacGyver I watched.

Let's just say...

The next Trivial Pursuit game we play.

Stick with me.

And yet.
Sometimes...

Like once.

A guy told me that the raindrops that had fallen on my cheeks were like stars before his eyes.
We stared at each other for a long moment.
Just waiting for that next moment.

I should have let my knees quiver the way they wanted to.
Should have let them quiver away.
And towards his direction.

Instead.

In those long moments.
I convinced myself that I wasn't good enough to have this effect on him.

That my glistening cheeks could be chalked up to merely the way the front porch light refracted off gutter water.

And the fact that the guy had a belly full of chocolate milkshake which merely swayed him into thinking such sweet thoughts.

And that he really didn't mean the poetry of it all.

So I quickly replied that I'd had a good time, but must really get the bobby pins out of my up-do.

Yep.
I actually said bobby pins.
And up-do.

I tell you.
It happens.

I hit this wall, of sorts.

And can't shimmy up and over it.

Can't take the compliment as truth and go with it.

It's frustrating.

Like that SNL skit with Phil Hartman and Jon Lovitz.

Where Lovitz is trying to tell it straight.

And Hartman just doesn't get it...

HARTMAN: Maybe I've made too many of these war movies. Maybe I should take a rest, huh, Harry?

LOVITZ: Well, I'm glad you brought that up, Johnny. I think you should take a rest too, a permanent one.
HARTMAN: What do you mean?
LOVITZ: I'm letting you go.
HARTMAN: You mean...
LOVITZ: Yes, your contract isn't being renewed.
HARTMAN: But, Harry, I...
LOVITZ: You're finished, Johnny!
HARTMAN: Don't mince words!
LOVITZ: I think you stink!
HARTMAN: Listen, Harry, if you're unhappy with my work, tell me now!
LOVITZ: You're through, do you hear me? Through. You'll never work in this town again!
HARTMAN: Don't leave me hanging by a thread. Let me know where I stand.
LOVITZ: I think you're the worst actor I've seen and I get 500 letters a day he telling me the same.
HARTMAN: What's the word on the street?

(Click on link to hear a short excerpt: http://www.adequatulence.com/hartman/vault/sounds/oconnor1.wav)

Haha. Hehe. Haha. Ho.
Those two.
They crack me up.

Okay.  But really.
Here's the deal.

Despite the fact that when we finally meet.
I'm sure we'll have cupid on our side.

As well as Kismet and all the fates rooting for us.
Despite it all...

I still fear my sometimes lousy self confidence will be immune to your charms.

I still think there will be that wall.

I still might be a Hartman.

Even if your eyes make me turn to putty.

Even if the corner of your mouth makes my knees quiver.

Even if I actually believe the poetry in every single word you say.

So.
Leave the poetry at the door.
The games.
The long pauses for effect.
The playin' it cool.
At least, at first.
And just tell me.
Don't mince words.

Don't leave me hanging by a thread.

Let me know where I stand.
Just grab my shoulders and lay a big one on me.

I'm pretty sure that would do the trick.

Love,

Me.