GREETINGS SEARCHERS, AND STALKERS!

posted by Jill on Thursday September 14, 2006

Filed under: The Internets, Guess You Had To Be There

I was quite pleased with Zabeth’s post entitled “Greetings Searchers” and her efforts to draw more people to our website. I’d like to add a few more “search terms”:

Marriage Problems

Gay Marriage

Green Card Marriage

Mail Order Bride

Whatever Happened to Jill Alexander

After all, the Trophy Wife website has been up for a month already and so far only one person from my high school days has managed to track me down.

Yes, you, Tyler. You’re the one I’m talking about. You who sent me a random e-mail today cryptically referring to our days on the Ohio Forensic League Circuit. Don’t think I don’t remember who you are. Sure, you always had on the requisite khaki pants and navy blazer, but who could forget that sassy blond hair of yours? It was like summer, that hair. Like magic and summer all mixed together on top of your head.

Yes, Tyler, I’d see you around at tournaments – hanging out with the other H.I. boys or playing “Magic” in the cafeteria with kids from your own school. I remember we were both at Nationals my senior year. Who could forget the t-shirts we all donned so proudly to represent our home state? Oh, those shirts demanded respect! Rich navy blue, emblazoned with “OHIO’S FINEST” across the back of them.

I still have mine. Sometimes I cry into it.

I remember at the opening ceremony in that auditiorium in Indianapolis we briefly spoke about getting together later that evening, perhaps at T.G.I. Friday’s with some of the other Interpers. I left a message at your hotel. You didn’t call back.

No, Tyler, I remember my Speech and Debate days clearly. More clearly than yesterday.

You sent me a senior photo of yourself when you graduated. You were wearing your navy blue blazer. Of course. And you wrote a note with it that said something about me being pretty. I remember blushing.

I think I sent you a Christmas card during freshman year of college. You were at Denison. I was at Northwestern. I never heard back from you.

Sigh.

And now, twelve years later, you somehow come across the Trophy Wife website and contact me? And want to know “what’s up?” “What’s up,” Tyler? You want to know HOW I’M DOING, Tyler? HOW AM I DOING???

Too late, Tyler. It is too late.

You broke my heart in ‘93. I left the shattered pieces of it in a box of old First Place trophies. That’s right, Tyler, First Place.

Which probably means you came in second. Or third.

No, Tyler, it’s too late to confess your undying love for me. I have cats to take care of. Well, one cat. The other one was devoured by coyotes in my backyard. Still, I have responsibilities.

And sure, you mentioned you have a cat of your own. And a wife. But I’m in Hollywood, Tyler… I know what you’re up to. And quite frankly, it’s making me cry. I’m crying into my OHIO’S FINEST t-shirt this very moment.

Oh, what could have been? What never will be?

I’ll always remember you, though. Who could forget that magical hair? That magical hair and your navy blue blazer.