Champagne Problems

Butterflies Schmutterflies

Whaaa? Butterflies? Those pretty little fly creatures with bright and appealing colors? The fluttering kind that glide around and then touch your nose and you’re all, “That’s good luck!” even though it’s not, it’s ladybugs that are good luck but you convince yourself anyway? Those kind of butterflies? Nope, I’m referring to the the tummy kind.

You’re going about your day at a normal, honest, fashionable upstanding citizen would and then all of a sudden when your face is smothered in a scone you run into that one handsome devil (male or female) that looks you directly in the eye and gives you butterflies. As you scurry to pull scone out of your two front god-forsaken teeth that always have food in them (always), you realize your crush has begun. (Girl time!)

You can try to go about your day, week or month without thinking of that handsome human. You can even go as far as saying, “Pff, he/she wasn’t that cute.” But who are you fooling? The butterflies hit your tum-tum and now the spell is cast. You can’t think of anything but this living, breathing creature that you met, even if it was for a second. How do you see this person again? Are they married? Do they think your voice is annoying? I think my voice is annoying. But only at karaoke though. But I’m usually pretty wine drunk by the time I get to karaoke so I can’t actually recognize I’m tone deaf. Well, just know that I am. Always. Geez, you’re being a little harsh to your own self right now, JC. Sorry, where was I? You see, having a crush, AKA “getting them butterflies”, is fun for all about twenty-two seconds and then you snap out of it and drive yourself insane. I’m saying this from personal experience, because people go their separate ways constantly. You might see this person tomorrow same time or never again. And it’s just that that drives a person mad. How do you keep your cool? How do you stop yourself from talking to your friends about it? Analyzing every word exchanged in the conversation and then planning a trip to Napa before you know their last name? I haven’t figured out the solution yet but I’m starting to narrow down the problem. It’s a human thing. Yup. Both men and women. Don’t let a guy punk you into believing they don’t crush hard, they do. Ask the many men that wait outside my castle to let my hair down… Oh, that’s not me? Rapunzel? She sounds awesome.

Having butterflies about someone is like this chemical in balance that happens right when your brain decides to have a crush. You could be moments away from making the biggest speech of your life but if your one and only (or ten and only, Liberal style) walks through that door, I guarantee that unless you’re on some real good meds, you’ll be shaking like a tree on a leaf. (Not the right saying, but I think it’s adorable).

In the end, you can’t focus. So why hasn’t some brainiac come up with a cure for crushes yet? I mean, it’s 2011 – we have fancy technology running around, you’re trying to tell me not one heartbroken chap at an ivy league university has decided to sit down in front of a bunch of potions and muster up a cure for the common butterfly? No way. I’m not buying it. It’s out there. And we need to find together. We can’t be expected to just run around single for most of our lives tortured by crushes. You’ve seen teenagers. They have crushes weekly. New ones. Wait till they get older, they’re going to flip their lids when they find out that some of their crushes will never be in their home room again, but instead on the opposite coast because he had to follow his dreams in internet marketing.* Doomed. Doomed, I say. Now if you pardon me, I have to lock my door three times, put on that same red dress and cough loudly like the last time I ran into this guy.


Image via The E

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