In the abovementioned novel it is obvious when two people, are going to be married. There was no surprise at the end, but a happy end notwithstanding. I find that in my life, it is much harder, to perceive the affexions of a member of the opposite sex; their behavior is to me, very baffling. And so it is to no great surprise, that I am dateless this evening for the Showcase. It is not necessarily a fete requiring an escort, but on my part, the escort, will be sorely missed. I refer of course to a particular person, the attentions of whom I have no cause or right to expect, yet my heart longs after him. But after such a grievous mistake as has been made the evening previous, I doubt he pays me any mind at all, except occasionally to shudder, at my impudence and silliness.
I saw him today at dinner, but dared not join him, for I knew none that were in his company; approaching him, therefore, would be forward. I ate in solitude, trying not to allow my eyes, to wander to his table. This was all in vain, since not looking at him is quite impossible.
As I left the room I greeted him in the least civil manner without being rude, and his greeting of me, was matching in its abruptness and apparent lack of interest. I am certain, that he is quite worried to speak to me, as I have lowered myself in front of him so plainly and stupidly. I cannot realize that he may never return my affections, for my life has always been filled with unrealised dreams.
This being said, I would like to assure the reader, that I am perfectly happy with my station in life, and although it brings me sorrow to think that I may always be an old maid, I will try to do a service, to my position in society.
* * *
That was interesting, was it not? Writing it, I had to vary my expressions to match those of Austen; not extremely difficult, although it did require me not to cite actual conversations.
The violins and trumpets hail the approach of Darth Vader, and the reader knows I listen to the Imperial March.
After such a digression it is hard to go on without reciting some anecdote from the Star Wars universe; but I will restrain myself.
If the reader has been intimate with me the past few days, he knows that the preceding Austen passage's pivotal point has been Jason Ray McNeely, although I feel it necessary to mention that I did not have his full name memorized, I had to look it up. So there!
This, of course, proves nothing. Being a fairly absent-minded person, I can admire things of which I know not the name (Awkward sentence, just to avoid a dangling preposition--though I suppose it would be considered everyday speech in Austen's time.)
As a matter of fact, I admired Jason for two or three days without knowing his name.
I wish I could just take him aside and say, "The first time I saw you, you smiled at me, and I can be quite the assuming person, so I thought there could be a chance of something between us. But recent events--including my realization that you never think about quantum physics--have made me realize that you were only smiling at me in a friendly way, as you smile to everyone. I am not saying that a relationship between us is an absurd idea; I'm saying that I read too much into a look. I am not in love with you--I've never been in love with anyone. However, you do seem to be a well-rounded person and very likeable, and I would certainly enjoy continuing your acquantaince, though certainly without any hidden desires or silliness on my part. All I desire is a friendship, and it bothers me when my assuming nature drives so many people who could be my friends away."
Whew! I have never in my life been able to vocalize my feelings of that nature with so much accuracy and yet so much discretion.
--To be completely off the subject, the original version of "The Asteroid Field" is horrendous and I'm glad John Williams was able to fix it.--
Well. I certainly have had a lot to say. I was going to write about Michael Perry, since Rebecca Shoemaker remarked that Jason reminds her of him. (This news, of course, put me almost into a state of shock. If I were a weaker person, my heart probably would have failed and I would have spent the rest of the 5 weeks hospitalized. What I know of Michael Perry, and the extreme circumstances the two of us had an enormous chance of being involved in, is enough to still scare me out of my mind. I can tell you one thing--I'm glad I'm not Amy Copatrick Perry, to be sure!)
But. I don't feel like writing much longer. I wish to go mingle with the commoners, so to speak. Before the Showcase, which starts at 8. So I'll put my keys in my pocket (goin' jing-a-ling-a-ling) and be on my way. Adieu!
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