Today is supposedly a special day.

11/11/11, if you'd allow me to break format. Three elevens in a row looks interesting in a calendar. Also, I think, it's supposedly a lucky thing, although both scientists and numerologists say there's nothing really special with today. So, perhaps, the thought that today is a conspicuous date to launch new products or get married or just wish for something good to happen is a human thing. Six ones. One, meaning the best. And to those who were suckered into buying The Secret, or at least subscribe to the law of attraction, thinking of positive things will lead to positive things. More so today, because there are six ones.

Me? I've never been the most optimistic being (and I probably never will) but, at the start of the year, I took note of the fact that this date will come. People did make a big deal out of 11 January because there are five ones. 1/11/11, if you'd allow me to break format again. I thought, there's a better date to get crazy about wishing. That was me being a smartass. The day arrived and everybody is going, "make a wish!" and I can't be bothered.

It is, after all, an ordinary day. There's no special holiday marking the occasion, unless you're doing Veteran's Day where you are, in which case it's complete coincidence. There's no large gathering outside with placards full of elevens. I'm still working. In fact, I'm more swamped than usual. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, even, because my sister left our bedroom door open, meaning I woke up to the morning news shows. Today, somehow, is just not that kind of day.

I did wait for 11.11 to strike, and only so I can post a screen shot of my computer's clock giving me six elevens. Twelve ones. Played a Haley Reinhart song while I'm at it.

"Make a wish," everybody said when the clock struck.

Am I really missing something here?

I, naturally, got annoyed. It's my tendency to get really affected when people decide to do things together, things that I said I won't do because it doesn't mean much to me anyway. What's the point of wishing on this particular day? Can't you do it in any other day? You can do it any other day. The law of attraction isn't fickle with time, unless that's actually what The Secret says. And everybody's doing it. And I said I won't. And everybody's still doing it, which is like saying, "Niko, you're missing out!" And I get annoyed, because nobody explains it to me. Then again, they know I wouldn't pay attention, so why bother, right?

I would, actually. Not that it'd compel me to follow their footsteps, but I'd listen, unless you're talking about something I'm a hardened cynic about.

It's been a while since I talked to Gwen. She's been up to stuff. So much stuff. To the point that, somehow, she decided to change her Twitter handle. That sort of thing says "this is the new me" a lot. I talked to her yesterday, and only because I saw her change her handle, (and only because Twitter's got new stalker-y features,) and definitely because that move somehow made me feel sad.

"Should I reintroduce myself?" I said.

I don't make a lot of friends. I'd like to think I do, but there is such a thing as a hierarchy, and I've been assuming (pretty much correctly) that I've always been at the lowest rung. Nobody calls me up or anything. I won't get any text messages for five days straight, and I wonder why I still have a mobile phone. But there are a few people who will make me feel special, which I will reciprocate, and which will lead to stronger-than-expected friendships. Gwen is one of those people, at least until she got busy.

"Why are you sad about this?" she replied.

"It's like we're acquaintances again," I said. "I click on 'friendly' and I see 'get to know' rather than 'ask about day'."

(It's funny how much the developers of The Sims have got this whole social thing to a science.)

"You can 'ask about day' though. But this new Twitter name sounds so... professional. Or geeky. I choose geeky."

"I dunno. Your new name feels so... cold."

I was listening to This American Life later that night. Middle school dance. Boys asking girls out. I, of course, never had the chance, nor the guts to do that. So, I wondered, what if I had a girlfriend in high school? The thought led to a conversation between me and Dinna, my Twitter friend from Indonesia. (I hate to make a hierarchy out of this, but you have to prove a point.) A conversation about being left behind.

"And nobody needs me," I said.

"I can say 'you don't know that,'" she answered. "But it's something I firmly believe also, so... yeah."

"I believe you'll know you're needed without anyone telling you. It happens. Just happens."

"I actually was. Now I'm not sure. Everyone seems to be content with moving forward without me."

"I hate that feeling a lot."

"So you know. I'd love to know if I'm needed. And then I can figure things out from there."

"Me? I'd love to know if it's worth telling you I need you."

"You don't actually mean me, right? Ha. Pardon, my brain is rusty."

"Heh. I knew you'd think that. But you know what I mean."

Today? I just spent the last nine hours finishing my work, then the next hour writing this blog entry. I'm not sure if there's anything to look forward to, really. I still talk to people, occasionally, but it sucks that I have to be the one to always start things. I need them more than they need me. They need other people. They have other people. And this sounds pathetic, but I'm jealous that they have other people and not me. It's not as if I'm a bad person, right? I've done everything, almost everything, right. And yet people stay away from me.

And here I am, on a day where people celebrate six ones on a calendar by making a wish, trying to catch up. Today is special if you make it so. I could've, and in a good day I would've, but I didn't, because I'm still trying to catch up. I would say it's futile, but you'll dismiss all that I just said as self-pity crap. Which it is, really.

And your responses...

Oh wow. Guess what I just blogged about the elevens too. But a more positive post though :)

Blogger Katia11/12/2011     

Haaay. I don't like the fact that people come and go. I wish they could just... stay. You know.

Blogger crazy11/13/2011     

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