For the many of you that lay awake at night wondering " what DOES Sarah think about when she is working and doing other busy and terribly important activities?", don't fret, a pure gem is on it's way. Formulating in my brain as we speak.
So I was thinking about the irony and origin of the slang term crush. And how we like to attribute it's nature to that of school girls and juvenile days, when in fact, it remains ever present in the life of a solitary single. There is the work crush, the church crush, the mysterious guy at that one party/social gathering with whom you locked eyes and is a friend of so and so crush, the best friend crush, the internet crush, the checker at the whole foods store crush (who you probably would never date because you aren't quite sure that he baths on a regular basis....but then again, maybe he just needs some female encouragement to promote the care of his personal hygiene). And there are more, shall I go on? The girl grush, the man crush, the crush who will never like you because he doesnt like women that way, the pharmacist that sells your anti anxiety medication and sometimes flirts with you, and the old man crush with whom a real crush would be creepy, but he is sweet and attentive and cute and old. You can one really intense crushes. Or lots of little ones. Or lots of intense ones. It all depends on your level of sanity.
Crushes are everywhere. They are in the air, almost palpible, giddily enjoyable, and painfully miserable. A crush gone too far leads to that undesired demise where you are eventually no longer crushing, but are definitely crushed.
This is what I was thinking about this morning. How crushes seem so innocent and fun, and how the same word can be used to describe the utter disapointment when one realizes that their crush does not return the favor and find them crushable as well.
According to the world wide web, crushing originated in the 1800's where social gatherings usually consisted of lots of people, lots of dancing, girls in petticoats, hoop skirts, tightly laced corsetts and heavy clothing. The men, as well, in full suiting. All crushed together without any air conditioning. These balls were often referred to as crushes for this very reason. And where is a girl from the early 1800's supposed to meet an eligible bachelor? Well at a crush of course! This is where they locked eyes with that special someone, filled their dance card, and then proceeded with a whirlwind romance of courting each other via visits to her parents parlor with the entire family present. If you do not know of what I speak, pick yourself up a Jane Austen novel. I think the evolution from there is pretty self explainatory.
All of this is why I have decided that crushes are sheer agony to endure. Where you would once correspond normally with an accquantaince, willy nilly, you now over analyse your every word, and their every response, look, gesture. It makes you a crazy person. Sometimes even a stalker, and always insecure. Why is it we can feel on top of the world, independent, confident, and secure, until the crush crosses our path,? And I'm suddenly that silly school girl once again, void of my usual wit and charm, being chased by the boys on the playground, secretly hoping that one in particular would manage to catch me. Which wouldnt be very difficult, I wasnt a very fast runner.
Some days I enjoy or even seek out a new crush, other days I am just totally and inexplicably CRUSHED. And yet, I'm pretty sure I will go on crushing.
Also, my favorite flavor of crush is orange. And strawberry. You can more than one crush after all.