There’s a girl who lives next door and she
does not know that I am in love with her.
To be honest, she does not know that I exist
at all. I mean, I imagine that in theory, she has a tacit awareness that a
person or persons occupy the townhouse next door to her, and everyone on the
block has heard me trying to start my van in the mornings.
There’s a chance she has even seen me when I go
out to check the mail or when I take a walk with the kids in the evenings. Yeah,
maybe… Maybe she has seen me!
But she does not know me. If I ran into her
at Kroger, for example, I would see no flash of recognition in her eyes.
So the girl who lives next door has
absolutely no reason to suspect that I am in love with her.
I’ve done everything I could to learn her
name. I’ve raided the mailbox for apartment number five. Twice. Five is the
second floor unit way back at the back of the huge old house where she lives.
The unit you can only get to by climbing a clanky metal stairway that looks
like a fire escape.
I’ve raided her mailbox but that did not help
because people who live in apartment number five do not stay. There’s mail in
the box for a Pedro Lopez and there’s mail in the box for Nova Kid Productions
and there’s mail in the box for a Brandon Pierce and there’s mail in the box
for a Stacey (just Stacey).
Maybe she’s Stacey (just Stacey). But maybe
she’s not. I’ve never been in love with a Stacey (just Stacey) before.
There’s no one registered to vote at her
address and Harry says she works in an office building and not anywhere requiring
name tags.
I don’t know even what color her eyes are,
but when I dream of them they are that weird hazel kind where the color sort of
depends on how wide the pupils are at the time.
I do know she leaves her blinds open a lot.
Like last night, she had some friends over until
late and they were talking and they were drinking and they were smoking something
together. I could see her talking and when she talked, her eyes opened wide and
she waved her hands around and I tried to imagine the words she was saying. The
words I imagined her saying were about how photons only have potential locations until they are
observed and about how this proves that consciousness brought the universe into
existence. I imagined her going on to explain how the past is created by our research
into the past and how the universe actually grows bigger as our telescopes see
farther merely because we are observing it.
I can’t explain her theory better than that
because I imagined her as being a lot smarter than I am. (Later, it turned out she
and her friends were just playing Cards Against Humanity, but still...)
I am starting to learn her routine now. Like
I know she argues on the phone with someone every Thursday night and then gets
really drunk and roams her apartment in varying stages of undress.
I’m not creepy about this or anything. I
mean, I have a parabolic mic I use for work right down in the van. I could go
down and I could get it and I could hear every word she’s saying all the way
from here. But I choose not to go down and get the parabolic mic because this girl is
sacred and she deserves her privacy, or at least some of her privacy.
Okay, maybe this is a little bit creepy.
But what do you expect? People do some stupid
things when they are in love like I am.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
This thing you just
read is part of the Yeah Write Nonfiction Weekly Writing Challenge. They always
have some great things to read, so you should go check them out!
Why not just e-mail the creepy parts of the alphabet soup and ask them to profile the chick in Apartment 5?
ReplyDeleteI was thinking about sending her a love note made from individual letters I cut out of magazines to find out if she likes me.
DeleteThere goes the coffee out my nose again...
DeleteMy stalker guy (who has followed me around, harassing and threatening me and my friends and family and such for 7+ years now) sent me a message this morning noting that he has not done to me many of the activities I describe here in the post.
DeleteI has a similar reaction with what I was drinking at the time...
voted...
DeleteThere are a few really good entries in the nonfiction category this week.
DeleteI used to read the stuff submitted and it was all Mom-blog stuff, but the quality of submissions has improved a lot.
It does not seem creepy to me, but that is partially because you are not creepy. Creepiness really depends on the creeper and you do not radiate that.
ReplyDeleteHey, hi, Heather! I need to do all the creepy stuff now, while I'm still relatively young. I can get away with almost anything. On a good day, at least.
DeleteI don't think it's creepy. I just think by romanticizing her so much you're potentially setting yourself up for failure. I mean, you imagine her eyes to be a dreamy ever-changing hazel and that she's much smarter than you and has brilliant scientific theories, but what if her eyes are shit brown* and she's dumb as a box of rocks?
ReplyDelete*Both of us have this particular eye color so we feel justified in using this term
My ex once said to me, "I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you."
DeleteI believe she might have stolen that quote from somewhere, but it's still a good one.
You must subscribe to Einstein's block theory of time, that the past, present, and future are but man-made illusions, all of them happening at once, not in some neat, linear process of one-at-a-timeyness. Or something. I believe Billy Pilgrim described it best. "Hello. Farewell. Hello..."
ReplyDeleteStacey (just Stacey) is probably a very nice person with lots of regular person qualities and problems, and she could probably use another friend. I don't know anyone who has too many of them, with the possible exception of a lottery winner whose name was recently published in the papers.
On the other hand, Stacey could be a covert agent, planted just close enough to entice you so that YOU think the entire affair was YOUR doing, and not, in reality, a nefarious scheme controlled by others from afar. See "Marathon Man" for an example of how this works.
"Is it safe?"
That's the question.
Of course, the question, answer, and result are all happening at the same instant, so why worry about any of it. We are at the mercy of the Hooey Gods, and they're widely known to be petulant, impulsive assholes.
And why do you have problems starting the van with the parabolic mic?
The difference is that the van is mine, while the spy gear belongs to my employer and is worth more than the van.
DeleteI don't know anything about physics. I've tried. I didn't even understand "Interstellar." Which is why it is so important that i meet my hypothetical Stecey (just Stacey). She really seems to have it all figured out.
I predict this will end well!
ReplyDeleteHi, Debra! I don't see how else it could go.
DeleteI can hear it now: "So, how did you two crazy kids meet?"
The creepiest part about this is that you own and operate a van. I presume it's window-less. Wait, FedEx vans down't have windows. Ergo, FedEx is child molesters! (I'm sure my syntax is right in that sentence.) How do you know "There’s no one registered to vote at her address"? Not that I want tips for stalking or anything.You may want to wait until the statute of limitations runs out before bragging about mail tampering.
ReplyDeleteHarris County very conveniently has a site where you can do a voter search, by name or by address:
Deletehttp://www.hctax.net/voter/search
(To all of Pickleope's exes: You're welcome!)
What if you end up being a lot more interesting than she is? Better not talk to her ever. That way she will always be awesome.
ReplyDeleteThere's a section of Mary Shelley's Frankstein, where the monester is living in a lean-to attached to a house, unbeknownst to the family that lives in the house. He watches them through a crack in the wall and observes what their life is like and what it means to be a human being. Fromo afar, you know?
DeleteThat's how my life feels a lot of the time.
Not that I'm complaining!
ReplyDeleteHannibal Lecter: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
Clarice Starling: He kills women...
Hannibal Lecter: No. That is incidental. What is the first and principal thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
Clarice Starling: Anger, um, social acceptance, and, huh, sexual frustrations, sir...
Hannibal Lecter: No! He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort to answer now.
Clarice Starling: No. We just...
Hannibal Lecter: No. We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want? "
Yes. they do.
I sit here typing night after night, and on those rare occasions when I raise my eyes and look out the window... Boom. She is right there. This is hardly my fault. I know you would agree...
DeleteOh SURE! I mean if her house just comes floating by who wouldn't look? I've seen your weather reports - keep your feet dry! s'the only GOOD thing I learned while in the army.
DeleteHey, we've had so many floods here that I have the procedure pretty well down.
DeleteKeep my feet dry, don't drive into water if I can't tell how deep it is. Oh, and make sure I know where the manholes are if I'm walking in the street.
Katy, are you a big fan of fava beans and Chianti, by any chance?
ReplyDeletescaaaaaaare ME!
DeleteWell, they were talking about Buffalo Bill, though, who wore fat girls' skin like a suit. Which, I hate to point out, I have a blog about somewhere. Not the Silence of the Lambs aspect, but wearing other people's skin.
DeleteActually, I don't think I would ever want to hear most of my blog posts read back to me in court...
I was ok with this post till the thought of giant spiders coming to steal my stuffed bears had me running to make sure Fluffy Bear was alright.
ReplyDeleteI used to have a Goliath bird eater tarantula. It ate whole mice. Sadly, perhaps, tarantulas are the most boring pets on Earth and certainly could never be sent on missus against stuffed animals. If. A tarantula turns around in a 24-hour period, he has had a very adventurous day indeed!
DeleteKaty , I'm glad to see that you've moved on from your obsession with the Garden Gnome . This is true progress . This one breaths ... or are you just fickle . I hope your just fickle .
ReplyDeleteGlenn
The garden gnome did not have legs like this...
DeleteI also fall in love pretty easily.
The garden gnome might have a second chance when I am on the rebound from window girl.
I bought a pair of X-Ray Specs from the back of a Superman comic for a $1.98 in the the mid 50's. Later I bought periscope to see around corners. The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew recommended them so I knew they were the real deal. If it would help, I'd be more than happy to email them to you along with the 3-D printer I don't have. I sure they would help your cause. It's the least I could do for a friend:-)
ReplyDeleteEvery little thing helps and shows just how deep my love goes.
DeleteI feel a song coming on, 2 actually:-)
DeleteEvery Little Thing - Police, That's How Deep My Love is - Otis Redding
I'm full of useless information:)
It's weird that you mentioned the Police, because I was thinking of their stalker anthem, "Every Breath You Take."
DeleteDarn it. The site kicked my phone out just when I was reading the comments. Have you thought about sending her flowers with a note that is signed, "Your secret admirer?". Maybe then SHE would start looking for YOU?"
ReplyDeleteI don't know whether that works with attractive grown-up women. I can attest to its effectiveness on insecure 6th graders, though.
DeletePerhaps you should send her a finger ... It doesn't have to be yours.
DeleteGo William Burroughs style, yeah! That wouldn't be a red flag at all...
DeleteHow did you manage to look in through her window? Is your home that high? And I'm intrigued by that bit about Cards against Humanity or whatever. How did you know that without using your fancy microphone?
ReplyDeleteAs for her - go up to her and introduce yourself. "Hi, I'm Katy, the spider woman next door, and I'm in love with you. Don't worry, female spiders only eat their male mates, and that only sometimes, ha ha."
After all what have you got to lose? At most she'll scream and run away...and you'll know she's not sound on spiders. Never trust anyone who doesn't like spiders.
My room is on the second floor of my townhouse. She's right across from me.
DeleteI'm making long-term plans. I'm not going to screw it up by just being myself.
Katy. Brandon Pierce, or was it Brendon Prease, used to work for me. Skinny guy with odd teeth and mad motor grader skills.
ReplyDeleteAs for creepiness, just don't boil her bunny and I'm OK with all of it.
Addressing the issue of getting her attentions, bat those eyes of yours her way. Woman's got the least bit of interest in womanly charms, she's a dead duck. Then there's that entire unrequited love scenario wherein you become so loves truck that you write a novel and get famous in 110 years from now.
Since I'm likely not making the next 110 years, maybe I'd better go ahead and be the first and say it now. "I knew Katy and of her sufferings. She was a sad and brilliant woman who loved spiders and unavailable women with unique, and special, passions. Her prose is rich and creamy with just a hint of lavender; her poetries hard-edged and insightful. Please read Katy's newest, The Spider's Synapses, coming soon to a cloud reading room near you. Nine-point-three stars on a ten star scale."
I might give it a ten-point rating if you'd write it soon, give me a chance to actually read it. Fuck Walmart!
Hi, Mooner!
DeleteI always get stuck on the opening line of the novel and so never make it any farther with the writing. I always sort of wanted to write a 350,000 word, multi-volume novel that opens with, "I wish I knew what to say."
I'll probably just stick with writing blogs. But bloggers get the girls, right?
The balance your struck here between relatable and creepy is so well done, Katy! Good luck with Stacey (just Stacey)! Lead with the striking beauty part, not with the factoids you've gathered, but you probably know that.
ReplyDeleteThank you, innatejames!
DeleteAs great an opening line as it would be, I am probably not going with, "That underwear you were wearing when you were alone in your house last Thursday? I have some just like it!"
Just tell her, in a laughy way. Life's too short to miss an opportunity however slight it may be. I know - I've missed loads and now I'm 60 (sigh)
ReplyDeleteHi, Andrew! I think I might still be inanely optimistic enough to actually do something. But it's probably good that I don't have a very good memory.
Delete"Hey, I wonder what will happen if I put my hand on this stove top AGAIN?"
It's not creepy unless she finds out in an awkward way. I wouldn't worry about it. I mean, we've all been there, right? ;-)
ReplyDeleteYeah, I think I'm good until a few of her guy friends show up beating on my door asking me why I've been looking in her window...
DeleteSame shit happened to me maybe a couple of dozen times. I'm not quite as stalky as you, though. Nothing ever came of it and I was always sad for a while. They didn't know what they were missing. I'm over it now. Mostly.
ReplyDeleteThen there's the Van Gogh approach. Send a body part, but maybe something more like fingernail clippings instead of the fleshy stuff. It didn't work for him either.
Yeah, I am certainly an optimist even talking in these terms. Any other person would have accepted their single status by now and moved on to other interests.
DeleteHa, ha, ha. This is (was?) fun.
ReplyDeleteIs... I think it's is because I just read it again and it's still fun.
Cool! I'm never sure whether people make it all the way through even once, let alone TWICE!
DeleteI admire your courage in writing about this...I just hope all ends well for both of you.
ReplyDeleteIf I don't end up in jail, I'll consider it all a huge success.
DeleteI love this so much. You kept me hooked the entire time and now I want to know everything that's happened since then.
ReplyDeleteI do have one complaint though...
What's with the giant spider gif? I almost peed my pants :)
Thank you, Arden!
DeleteI have tarantulas, and spiders often fit into my evil plans. I don't have any as big as the thing in the gif, but if I did, I am confident that they would do my bidding...
I commented before but I guess it didn't take. Trying this again! I loved this, most especially for the conjured conversation about photons, but also for its unabashed lust written with confidence and ease. Stacey (just Stacey) may be the kind of woman who only needs one name, like Cher or Madonna. I gotta know who she's talking with on Thursday nights. Usually that kind of consistency is left for parents. But what do I know?
ReplyDeleteThank you, Meg. I've been happy with the response this post has gotten, especially considering I didn't plan it out ahead of time like I usually do.
DeleteI guess I'll have to update everybody if this progresses!
Here's what I'm hoping happens: I hope Stacey (just Stacey) notices you one day and falls madly in love with you. Then her twin sister (who happens to not be gay) moves to town and asks you if you know any kick-ass bass players in Arkansas. And then the four of us go on vacation to an obscure Albanian beach town and collaborate on a new theory of the universe and win a Nobel Prize and get rich and then we all buy a mansion in Chile and get a cute li'l Collie and name her Scheherazade. That's what I'm hoping happens.
DeleteThat was going to be Part 2, Sterno. But as anyone who has been reading my page very long knows, I suck at writing Part 2 of a story.
DeleteBut, my dear, your Parts 1.9 and 2.1 are always so excellent that one barely notices the nano-second glitch in Part 2.
DeleteI'm attempting fewer stories that require a bunch of parts these days, since that holds people's interest better anyway.
DeleteUnlike some people I know who have been blogging the same story for weeks now, bringing in President Taft and American Gothic and Lumpy.
President Taft would do wonders for this blog...
Well, I impeached President Taft. No 'yays' or 'nays' from the four people who actually read Gothik, however. Does doing a blog totally for our own amusement make us crazy people? And since a lot of people I REALLY like are crazy people, is that even a valid consideration?
DeleteMy page views go up for a while and then go down for a while.
DeleteI'd be writing things regardless of how many people paid attention, but it might not be a blog like this. I think I'd be writing longer pieces, and probably more think pieces.
And maybe it will happen. Who knows?
This is all pretty reasonable behavior, in my opinion. After all, most people hugely captivating and interesting until you get to know them.
ReplyDeleteI know! Why ruin a good thing by actually meeting someone?
DeleteOne of my favorite singers, Robyn Hirchcock, said he once turned down a chance to meet Bob Dylan because, "Meeting your heroes is a a professional hazard in this job."
See, in a perfect world you would each dream endlessly of the other without ever once meeting or acknowledging each other. Nothing could be more romantic!
DeleteAlex, you apparently have never lived through such a "romance". If you did you would have either killed yourself or gone insane, probably both. Just ask Katy here, she has a lot more hands-on experiences with it than she is leading you to believe, as she's been insane and cutting herself for many years now.
DeleteAlex, so long as I have occasional human interactins, I can get by completely submersed in my own imagination.
DeleteI'm not sure what Anon's excuse here is...
Anonymous, you are a tool. Normal people can completely obsess over someone they've never met without it rising to the necessity of staking that person and/or harming/killing themselves. You should familiarize yourself with the concept of unrequited love and how it is treated in literature (though to be fair, some of those tales do end in the spurned or unacknowledged offing themselves.)
ReplyDeleteKaty, the interior world is so much more enriching for some of us. And of course it is entirely possible to meet and fall in love with someone who has an equally enriching interior world, bits of it they might decide to share with you...but good luck holding onto that after you figure out they pick their teeth, or whistle in the bathroom, or or leave their sandwich ingredients out after their done, or...well, you get the point.
Down Alex! Down boy!!
DeleteNow read it again. I said that Katy here had plenty of hands-on experiences with being insane and with killing herself, from being in such romantic experiences for years. I assure you, you would not see such diagnosis in my medical records, LOL.
So, do you kiss up to every internet lesbians you ran into? You do know that many notable internet lesbians who had their 15 minutes of fame all turned out to be overweight middle-aged white men typing all day long in their mother's basements in Iowa, right?!
EDIT: Sean, this is the last time you post to my blog. I hate to block anonymous comments, but frankly, it's the only means you have of communicating with me, since I've blocked you in every other medium. I'm not going to go through the many, many problems you have caused here and elsewhere over the years, but this is it. You were warned so many times that I feel foolish allowing you so much rope. Say goodbye
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMainly, she's concerned about the fact that, since I married a woman in New England and a man here in Houston (back when we were trying to provoke the former Attorney general into arresting us for bigamy), as of yesterday I have become a real bigamist instead of just a pretend bigamist. I need to go do something about that soon.
DeleteBeyond that, it was a really good day!