let's get together (yeah yeah yeah)

Sam was giggling when he pulled me aside and stage whispered, “Jonah likes Sara!”

And of course he does; it all suddenly made sense. Our curmudgeony co-worker Jonah had practically been pulling our intern Sara’s pigtails on the playground for weeks. And he’s been sharing snacks with her.

Even though we’d never mention it to either of them, Sam and I both support it. Sara’s internship is over soon, so it wouldn’t effect work. And the last time Jonah hooked up, he was so happy he bought us donuts, so that’s a bonus for everyone.

It seems such a good idea to everyone but them, and we have yet to think of a good way to nudge them toward each other. We thought about locking them on the roof together and alone, but that seems a little drastic. And I had an idea that I should cut my hair exactly like Sam’s so that people couldn’t tells us apart, Parent Trap-style, but, well, that didn’t make any sense.

Matchmaking is hard.

~beatrix

the universe is sending me mixed signals

At first I thought it was some sort of karmic punishment.

But Sam’s grandmother says it’s good luck to be pooped on by a bird. After all, what worse can happen to you that day?

So I guess if a pigeon’s gonna poop on you, 6:15 a.m. is a good time because it buys you a solid chunk of good-luck day.

I was coming home at 6:15 a.m., unlocking the front door of my building, because I didn’t listen to Harper.

“You should stick to your rules. I think you’re in danger of losing your good girl status. And once you lose it. . . .”

Well, I listened. And I tried. She said I’m addicted to boys and it’s a problem. She might be right. And she said I can only meet the boy Jules wants to set me up with if I get rid of Sandeep. Like cleaning out a closet that’s too full, she said.

“If making out was donuts, you’d be fat.”

I tried.

I called Sandeep and told him that I didn’t know if seeing him was a good idea because I didn’t think we wanted the same things. That he wanted a more physical relationship and that I felt like he didn’t want to get to know me. In an effort to be honest and a generally good person, I rehearsed what I wanted to say all the way home on the train. Then, after I ate two slices of pizza and checked my email and talked to Harper and looked at myself in the mirror for a while, I actually called him and I actually said what I meant to say.

I did what I was supposed to do, and that should have been it.

“What a shocker,” he sounds genuinely surprised. Genuinely.

He tells me it doesn’t have to be that way. I should have told him. I shouldn’t have waited until now to call him.

I can just come over, watch t.v. We don’t have to do anything, he promises. It’s up to me.

And when I’m telling him goodbye the next morning, getting ready to walk out the door, he wraps his arms around me and asks.

“See you soon? Or are we going to have to have that conversation again?”

I shrug, bring a section of my hair to my lips, and shake my head, half in his grasp, half out.

“You are too young to worry about this: what is good and what is bad.”

I felt it first, looked up to see two pigeon tails.

Logic tells me I deserve it.

But Logan, with his ancient Chinese wisdom, tells me I should buy a lottery ticket.



~beatrix