Oh, Myspace. How I love thee Myspace. A lovely place with hooks to hang all your thoughts on, to rest your weary mind in other people's lives. Famous, infamous, undiscovered. But important, nonetheless.
New categories?
What the hell are these?
I clicked on the link, it took me to a page with four groups: fun people, best friends and two that I really didn't understand. But I liked it.
People actually think of me enough to put me in a category. Good or bad?
But in light of the recent news: I'm fun! I raced down the hall to Shannon's room. Matt was sitting on the bed, laptop resting in his lap.
"Matt." I laughed.
He looked at me, the expression on his face fell completely blank. 100.
I laughed but somehow found the composure to speak, "Matt, someone said I was fun!!"
He held the expression a few seconds longer then smiled, "I know."
"Uh, how?" I asked, completely disappointed that he knew the information that made me excited to the core.
"I am the one who put you in there." He stated like it was common knowledge.
I smiled and clasped my hands together, hunching my shoulders close to my ears to accentuate the fact that I thought it was sweet.
Matt's an enigma. They can market and trademark Jeff as the 'enigma' he's like an open book to me. But Matt? He confuses me.
Maybe the normality of him sends my brain in a quest for the root of that. Why would he like normal things, maybe in the insane, untried world of wrestling he looks for a common interest with the rest of the world. That common ground would be Myspace. Taking endless picture of himself with cups, and people he hardly knows to downloading every Pearl Jam song ever created. It's a world of insanity yet more organized than a victim of Obsessive Compulsive disorder. Is that okay?