P. Divvy Thinks

If blogging be the food of love, read on!

Valentine #3: Diana Carvalho

A little about Diana: Diana and I took Latin and Ancient Greek together. She went to Colorado to pursue a Master's in Religious Studies.

Commence Wooing
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? I think it's the East, but you're definitely not the sun, and I mean that in the nicest way. Diana, moon goddess, and goddess of the hunt, I'll be your fiery A-Paul-lo! Those two gods hooked up, right? Yeah, I think so. I mean, I know they were siblings, but that never stopped Jupiter... right?

So, um... do you wanna make out already?

Our Dream Date: Diana's a bit freaky, so I would take her to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Afterwards, we would create a bonfire in the field and play drums under the stars. Then I would drive her home and book it out of town before her boyfriend, Hugo, catches up with me. He's my height but with much broader shoulders.

After avoiding the two of them for a couple of months, I could make it up to Hugo by helping him impress Diana with a production of William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet, cast entirely with sock puppets. Hey, we already gave Aristophanes's Lysistrata the same treatment!

Today's Subject: Love and Facebook

I had a friend who once said, “Ah, Facebook, adding a whole new level of idiocy to relationships.” Here are some examples I have come up with to support my friend's statement.

I've always dated jealous girls, which is terrible because I'm a shameless flirt. One was always suspicious that I had some deep unfulfilled desire for one of my friends. I'll admit now that there probably was some mutual desire at one point in our friendship, but it was never acted upon because I wasn't single at the time (as a side note... geez, when was I ever single besides these past couple of months?). I would always deny any feelings for her, past or present.

Was it a lie? Probably. But I just didn't trust her to not freak out; she was quite the worry wart. One day my girlfriend said to me, “I've been looking at your past Facebook posts, and you definitely said things that suggested you were attracted to her.” Oops. I suppose I was supposed to back track and delete my history from a couple of years ago.

If I am to work romantically with anyone in the age of Facebook, she will have to be a shameless flirt like me. Consider this exchange of comments on one of my profile pics which featured a model that looked just like me:

Cute Girl: a-MA-zing!
Me: You like?

That night I received an angry instant message from my girlfriend (the same one described above) at the time.

Crabbygrl13: Why were you flirting with that girl?
DisgracefulFlirt: Was I?
Crabbygrl13: Yes, you said “you like?”
DisgracefulFlirt: That's not flirting, is it?
Crabbygrl13: Um, let me think... YES!

So I had to delete that comment and write “Thanks,” instead.

Another area in which Facebook and Love have teamed up against me is the obligatory “cute couple” pic. And by “cute couple,” I mean stunning babe standing next to lanky, pale Frankenstein. She asks me if I would please use it as my profile pic, and not being too vain, I agree. Of course, there are other pics of the two of us, in which I look like a young Hugh Grant, but her hair isn't right in those pics, so she's forbidden me from even posting them on Facebook.

Two weeks will go by and someone will take a very flattering pic of me, and I really want to make it my profile pic. Now to be fair, my girlfriend never told me how long she wanted me to keep the pic up... but she currently has another pic of the two of us up as her profile pic. When she finally changes it to a pic of just herself, I breathe a sigh of relief and change mine to the flattering one of me.

But perhaps the worst thing is that now you have to break up with your girlfriend twice. Once in real life, and then again on Facebook. That really sucks. In an ideal world, a heart-broken man shouldn't have to do anything but brood in his room and yell at the radio every five minutes for playing another love song. But now these days, he has to pick himself up off of his tear-soaked pillow and cancel the Facebook relationship before that ice queen does.

If he doesn't, his profile will say that he's in a relationship, but it won't list with whom. Everyone will realize that he was the one who was dumped and is too busy brooding on his tear-soaked pillow to update his profile.

But at least you're less likely to get asked "How's so-and-so doing?" weeks after.

On a side note, one of my exes actually got mad when I was so quick to cancel our relationship on Facebook after she left me.

Facebook. Love. Two awkward tastes that taste weird together.

P.S. Hugo, we should really put on that sock puppet production of Romeo and Juliet.

P.P.S. Sock puppet isn't a euphemism for anything.