Gather 'round sprogs*, and I will tell you a story.
(*guess who has been reading the Steinway verse again. Meeeeee.)
Once upon a time, over two years ago, wee sophmore queenklu was in an English class, surprising actually no one. She had just that week gotten her grubby little paws on her very own Supernatural novel! Even though she read fanfiction when she could dig it up via google searches and adultfanfiction.net (shut up, okay, I didn't know where else to go), this was still very lovely, having basically pre-slash gen fic in book form.
She was reading this book, one day, when the girl sitting next to her, whom klu had never spoken to before, gasped and said, "Is that Supernatural?"
"Why yes!" she I replied, this third person thing is getting obnoxious, moving on, "I love that show! Possibly more than is healthy or sane!"
"Me too!" this girl said, and introduced herself as a name which is not Bonnie.
Bonnie knew many things about the internet, and a special strange place called ~livejournal~ which I had an account for but never used. We became LJ friends, and as I fell further and further into the abyss which is fandom, it soon became clear to me that Bonnie's definition of "not healthy or sane" was certainly not mine. She liked Supernatural, yes, she thought the boys were cute, check, but sex--of any kind, not just wincest, not just m/m, I'm talking even a slightly dirty joke here--made this girl squick. Obviously this was not the case with me.
But we remained friends throughout the semester, the kind of friends who only really ever see each other in class except for the one brunch thing with another of her friends to celebrate the end of finals. Blah blah blah, I started actually using this journal, and then I started using this journal for things which are not dribbles about my life. In short, fan fiction.
Remember, "Bonnie" and I are still LJ friends.
Which honestly, I forgot. I forgot about it many many times. And eventually she unfriended me, and I didn't notice. No skin off my back.
This is not the point of the story. The point of the story is that This Girl "Bonnie" is in my History of Rhetoric class right now. Has been since the beginning of the semester. We haven't spoken, we haven't even really made eye-contact, and I'm opperating under the assumption that she thinks I don't remember her. Or something.
I've been hoarding this story, okay, hoping something would come of it, hoping for a show down, that maybe we would be placed in a group together for maximum awkward, but nothing. Telling this story with no actual pay off is my way of telling the universe that I give up. Not every weird relationship comes back to bite you in the ass. I can live with the knowledge that there is someone in my class who knows one of my biggest dirty secrets and not care, because who is she going to tell, exactly?
That's right, universe. Neener neener neener.*
*with the direct understanding that were she to actually confront me I would probably turn beet red and self-implode on the spot, okay, universe, just pulling your leg. :D
~~THE END~~