Missed Connections

For reasons no doctor has been able to explain to me yet, I have had inability to sit and work for more than 10 minutes at a time over the last nearly month. I come down with essentially the symptoms of the Pepto Bismol Song and cannot stay in a non-horizontal and upright position without feeling like I'm going to die...

When I cannot think and cannot stay sitting at my desk, I'm forced to occupy myself with mindless things. I've re-watched some great movies in the last couple of weeks (Manhattan, Best Years of our Lives, Blazing Saddles, The Muppet Movie...UHF) as well as occupied my mind with craigslist missed connections.

I had a period of time when I read them religiously, living vicariously, until one hit too close to home. This week, however, with the emergence of a new similar site, I've been drawn back to craigslist's tales of two ships crossing in the night. (There must be a better metaphor for those...)

I'm left to wonder if these ever work. I'd never do it myself, though it is tempting. I certainly have had days when I cannot keep my eyes off someone on the subway, or have changed the book I'm reading because of a cute girl across from me (and my fear of her judging me by my book's cover), and have never had the guts to open my mouth to talk to any of these girls, but I don't think the internet is the way to give myself a voice. (By which I mean a voice towards these women, not a voice in general. I mean, have you READ this blog?!)

I still love to live through the stories I read and to piece together the lives of both the person posting and the catalyst; I am, after all, a storyteller. I'd love to hear a success story; the hopeless romantic in me wants to believe that if there's a silent connection that happens before either party can speak, they will both end up looking for the other and find one another, but I don't actually believe it.

And yet, I still hope to find someone who noticed me -- the kid in the khakis and the gray fleece...or jeans and the brown zip-up...or whatever it is I wear now. (Note to self: I miss my khakis. I'm wearing them this week...all week...)

Still the best craigslist story I've ever heard, and since I don't remember the specific people only it was someone at school whom I spoke to a few times Freshman year before he graduated and I have NO idea who it is:
He was looking to get rid of his dresser. She responded to the ad. She picked up the dresser. They ended up together.

And now you should all be happy I cannot come up with a pun based on the word 'armoire.'