|The snow that fell last week has melted already. There aren’t buds on trees, but the weather is decidedly more spring than winter. Perhaps that’s why people are crushing all over the place.
There are many definitions for the word ‘crush’, but it seems that changing this word into a verb has not reached the lexiconographers yet. Come on people, listen up.
"To crush on" = the archaic “to HAVE a crush upon”, or to have a brief infatuation with someone.
Personally, I’m a girl who likes to have a crush, I get lots done. There’s absolutely no reason to learn how the postal system works if not to use it in devious ways to ‘accidentally’ send something to the ‘wrong’ address, that of your crushee. When I have a crush, things like bpm mixing all of a sudden becomes vital, how can I possibly give my dearly be-infatuated a CD with all of his/mine/our favourite songs upon it unless I am sure they make sense together in a rhythmic AND musical manner? Not to mention the intepretation of all of the song titles, that they make a complete story.
And don’t tell me that you haven’t done the “ARGH! I sent that message by accident, it was supposed to go to the person above you in my address book” sms, after sending them a lascivious message – completely on purpose.
Crushes remind you that you’re alive! There’s a REASON to get up in the morning (maybe I’ll see them on the street…), and put make up on (I’d better look good when we accidentally bump into one another). Your boundaries start becoming larger (I’ve never been down this street before, but since he lives in this suburb, I’d better explore it thoroughly) and your stomach feels smaller (I couldn’t possibly eat that mint, in case he smiles and my mouth is too full to smile back). Your sleep is ruined (I shall not move a muscle while I sleep so that my face is unlined and unpuffy tomorrow morning) but your eyes sparkle like you’ve been snorting cocaine (it’s the zealous look).
But the best thing about crushes, is the way that they affect your behaviour, that is, what you do when you are physically near the object of your desire.
I am a researcher, so I investigated. My methods were plying friends with drinks, then asking them sensitive questions. Results indicates that we do the following:
- wrestling with,
- flicking pencils at,
- swearing in front of,
- making noises (I have yet to investigate what type of noises, further research required) and;
It’s barely more mature than pulling hair and giving dead arms (the halcyon days of my primary school crush).
There’s one more thing that I’ve been accused of doing. Apparently, I command all of the molecules between myself and my intended.
Which is why I’ve never been able to say, “Er, what do you mean?” when a good friend has called me on it. To the point where now, they just say, “so how’s the crush on [name here] going?”
Annoyingly obvious, not to mention, who wants to go out with someone knowing that you bullied them into the situation by using your superpower of ‘molecule command’?
Labels: Memories, Navel Gazing, Observations on Life