I kind of miss the good old days of John Cusack standing outside Ione Skye's window blasting Peter Gabriel's, In Your Eyes, from his boombox–you know the scene. It was so romantic–can you imagine the giant batteries it took to run?
We used to have a boombox, growing up–it was so ghetto, there was a dead roach stuck in between the radio needles. We used to live in an apartment, in a less comfortable part of town.
Another reason why J. J. Abrams and Matt Reeves rock–or rather, Felicity's music director. The end of the final scene of the pilot, they play Peter Gabriel, as she's walking down the streets of New York City, having made the decision to stay.
Anyway, back in those days, a guy wasn't going to bother stalking you, unless he had a real thing for you, because hey, it took effort. These days with modern technology, and all these various mediums, all he has to do is click a few buttons. Over the course of the past few weeks I've noticed an unnamed sort of stranger follow me around the internet world–from one blog to Gchat to Linkedin to Twitter. I guess I should be expecting a Facebook friend request soon.
But who am I to talk. I stalk doods around the internet all the time. Though, I usually just stick with one or two mediums, at least, until we become real friends.
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