Crush Letters

Celebrating crushes in letter form. Have a letter you want to share? Send it to crushletters@gmail.com.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

geek out

To the geekiest girl on TV,

I don’t know the first thing about comics, but Fresh Ink makes me wish I had a disposable income to devote to all those zombie books you talk about.

On a network where women are frequently relegated to sex kitten status, you are there because of your vast knowledge of all things games and comics. And I know it’s such a cliche to crush on a cute geek girl, but, wow, I can’t help it. You disarm the (occasionally) misogynist gaming culture with your piercing wit and exuberant charm, reminding everyone that superheroes aren’t just for boys. And when I found out that you love Ladytron and Le Tigre as much as you do gaming, I knew that you were the television personality for me. You’re the type of girl I’d like to take to the book store and then a dance party; you’d fit right in. I mean, you get paid to geek out in a public forum! How cool is that?

But seriously, it’s so refreshing to see an intelligent and quirky woman on G4. You’re so geeky (and adorable) that I can’t help but call you my celebrity crush of the summer...

word games we play

You kicked my ass at Scrabble, but I still don’t believe proper nouns should count. Check the rules and then we’ll rematch.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

parking lot romance.

Stumble out of the car. Meet your eyes. That's a big bag o' books.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

If...

If you were a few years younger, maybe we'd get somewhere. If you didn't have someone at home, it wouldn't hurt so much. If we didn't conspire in the corner, I wouldn't know your secret smiles. If you didn't stand so close, I wouldn't see the look in your eyes or feel your breath on my skin. If we met somewhere else, it might not seem so wrong. This is destined to go nowhere; I'm very aware of that. But I'll still be there, laughing at your jokes and wishing things were different.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

round and round

Dear Bus Boy,

When I'm running late in the morning, I'll see you on the bus. Headphones on, sleeping against the window. I know you've seen me stare...imagining how you'd look away from the bus routine. But I don't want to talk; it might ruin the image...and that's all that really matters.

-me.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Where?

We used to talk about growing up.

Where'd you go?

Friday, June 02, 2006

Ouch.

To the boy who stole my heart,

It hurts to think about you. I hope you're happy in your own little world. Without me.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Dear Car Dancer,

I was spazzing out to the radio. You were dancing in the next car. You smiled at me. An entire relationship at the red light.

16B

20 April 2006

To the Girl in 16B,

I wasn't very surprised when there was a problem with my ticket; the combination of a computer crash and my general bad luck had me prepared for nothing short of a total disaster. As a consequence, I had my pick of the plane: three empty seats and karma paying me back for all those picked-last-in-gym-class nightmares. You know it was a tiny plane, twenty rows and two propellers. Entering from the back, I saw you first, but hesitated – I was hoping for a row to myself and weird girl solidarity suggested I should keep looking. There was an aisle seat next to a business man a few rows up. He looked like a chatty guy, so I weighed my options. Another empty seat near the front, but if I went there, the greater the chance that my bad timing and close connection would make me miss my flight home.

When I first spoke, the universal “Sorry to crush your travel dreams” motion in tact, you didn't even notice. Or maybe you pretended not to, hoping I'd move on to the chatty businessman. That was when I fell for you...that exact moment. You smiled and caught my eye, grabbed your iPod and moved out of the way.

A few minutes later, the flight attendant came over to officially record my seat number. You could barely contain your giggles when she misspelled my name. Twice. Conspiratory laughter and small talk, a deadly combination. Eventually, we drifted into loud music land and I was stealing glances every so often.

When you hesitantly tapped my shoulder, I knew this was much better than most other flights. It didn't matter that all you were telling me was that it was time to “turn off all electornic devices,” it was how nice you were. There was a hint of shyness (or maybe travel induced boredom, I don't really know.) Soon it was time for goodbyes, but this time I really meant the “nice meeting you” and “have a nice flight.”

My next flight was delayed. I wasn't guaranteed a seat. The airline lost my bag. But you remain the bright spot...I can't stay mad at Delta: if they hadn't cancelled my earlier flight or fucked up my seat assignment, I wouldn't have met you. Thanks.

- Travel Buddy

Gym Class Goth

Summer 2004

Dearest Gym Class Goth Girl,

From the moment I saw you, I just knew you bought your entire wardrobe from Hot Topic: the black hair dye, the chain around your neck, the too-tight-for-gym class t-shirt. I was reading a magazine when the teacher assigned seats. When I heard my name, I looked up to see you next to where she pointed. You caught my eye and smiled; your lipstick smeared.

On that first day, we had to run a mile, remember? I was sleepy and walked very slowly around the track with my friend. I remember you started to run, yeah, but then had a gross coughing fit that you later explained to be the result of years of smoking and asthma. Smiles all around, you joined my friend and I and together we became the trio of summer school, trading girl drama horror stories while avoiding actual exercise.

I had a lot of fun during those few weeks, way more than I had anticipated when I signed up. I kind of regret losing your phone number.

Sonic Youth Boy

August 2002
(6th period study hall)

Dear Sonic Youth Boy,

When you came up to say say you liked my shirt, I was shocked...shocked you knew who Sleater-Kinney are, shocked you love One Beat as much as I do, and shocked you would even talk to me. I was a lowly Freshman caught up in the social hierarchy and you were a Junior, so self-assured. And that day, you renewed my hope that high school wouldn't suck.

A few days later, I had switched out of that study hall. I had almost forgotten about you until that fateful fire drill. I was wandering outside the school, when you called out, “Hey! Sleater-Kinney Girl!” My jaw dropped. You were wearing that Sonic Youth t-shirt, Murray Street era. I was only familiar with classic Sonic Youth. We briefly talked about Kim Gordon and Corin Tucker, but my social skills were somewhat lacking. Soon it was time to go back to class.

We never spoke again, I don't think., but I still remember how happy you made me for that week. Eventually I made my own music geek friends, but just knowing you existed made me a tiny bit more excited.

I watch Corporate Ghost on rainy days,
Molly