tales of a girl in the city

décembre 29, 2003

OK, I have a dilemma. It's another one regarding M and new (well, new-ish) technology.

I'm about to close my AOL account because it's useless and because my roommate and I, feeling rich several months ago, bought Road Runner. I used to use it as my internet provider, and when I no longer needed it for that purpose, I used it to.... Well. Ahem. I, um--FUCK.


I used it to see when M was logged in to AOL Instant Messenger.

Man, the truth is ugly.

It's just that (you know whatever's coming next is gonna be pathetic) it made me feel better to know when he was online. God, can you even believe I wrote that? It's good no one reads this.

I suppose that it didn't actually mean that he was online. It mostly meant that he just forgot to turn off his computer or log out at the end of his work day. Means--I should speak in present tense. Because, though my account will be terminated shortly, it is not yet terminated, and I did just (as in five seconds ago) double click on his name (which is the only name on my buddy list--the only name on any of my lists, actually, because he is the only reason why I even have an IM account) and do what I always do which is sit there and stare at the blank message box that comes up, begging me with its sweet, siren song to send him a message: Please, send him a little note. Just a short one. Just a "How are you?" that would pop up in the middle of his workday and surprise him. You know you want to. It would make you sooo happy. Would make him sooo happy. It'll make him love you. His love is just one click away. It's so easy. Just one teeny-weeny click.

It's like crack. No. That's inaccurate. You know what it's exactly like? It's exactly like when you're missing a tooth and you can't keep your tongue away from the tooth-missing-crater in your mouth. So your tongue keeps going back to the crater and feeling around, and feeling it out to see if anything's changed since the last time four milliseconds ago when it was in that same hole feeling around. And of course nothing has changed, but your tongue just keeps digging in there anyway because its fascinating for some unknown reason, that gummy hole where your tooth used to be.

It's exactly like that. The sight of M's name on my buddy list, particularly when my buddy list tells me that he's logged in and clearly waiting at his desk on Wall Street just for me to IM him, is my very own gummy crater hole. And I am a huge, pathetic, slimy, probing, masochistic fucking tongue.