how is that even possible?
nine years ago i was going through a very rough break up with the girl of my dreams.
most guys would have just jumped off a bridge, traded arms for hostages, or put explosive powder in their underpants and gotten on the first flight to Motown. for some reason i decided to throw myself into designing web pages.
in doing a little “research” to find photos of marilyn manson, i stumbled upon a fansite about the shock rocker. in the folders of one of the message boards i saw that “daisy_princess” was quite active in the community.
at the same time my bros Tsar were starting their band in full force.
i had the brilliant idea that if someone as excited and motivated as daisy_princess was just as in love with Tsar as she was in mr manson, Tsar would get huge.
turned out, instead, that i began to become smitten by the carefree teen, and vice versa, but because i was in such a dark, sad, lonely place, i didnt realize that the feelings were mutual until i went out to las vegas four months into our email/chat relationship to meet the young lady in question.
the year was 2001 and ashley was 19. she looked 16. i was in my late 80s and looked twice that. still, for some reason lust is blind and she was way into me. why? who knows. could it have been my amazing writing? ha! of course i was into her because she was deceptively smart, way exciting, and very fun to simply be around.
it was one of the few times that I was the one trying to simply be friends and nothing more. in fact none of our four months of correspondences were anything other than PG chats, if not G. 5-6 hours long, for sure, but never adult-orientated.
once i met her though i told her that it wouldnt work because, obviously, she was temporarily insane due to my amazing wardrobe and would soon wake up from her delirium and learn that i was just a run-of-othe-mill dirty old man who might have originally had fine intentions but that nonsense would soon leave the building as soon as the diet cokes began to be mixed with The Captain.
ashley however was not one who took no for an answer. she would pout and cry and stomp her feet and cry and yell and stalk and write and whimper and cry and snark and beg and cry. for three years, for some reason i resisted her and for three years she was essentially my girlfriend. i have never experienced anything like it. or her. it was curiously wonderful.
she even moved to california. not to be closer to me, of course, but lo, there she was in the OC, far before it became trendy. and the busblog was created during all of this.
today she lives with her husband and young daughter in france. she works at her fathers vinyard in Jonce and she is surrounded with handmilked white cows and her hot sisters.
i miss her deeply.
and when i tell you that im the luckiest man in the world thanks to the web, she is one of my finest examples why.
happy birthday daisy girl from a foreign world. thanks for stalking me and keeping our friendship going despite my best wishes for you. thank you for showing me a side of love that most people dont understand. thanks for always wanting attention. thanks for always giving attention.
you look better than ever. however we are still waiting for the photo essay of your christmas in vegas.