Why Haven't I Heard From You?

When I was in the seventh grade, my chorus teacher was a single, forty year old woman. Our chorus consisted of seventh and eighth grade boys and girls. But, for one particular song, just the girls would be singing at our upcoming concert. The song was called, "Why Haven't I Heard from You," by Reba McEntire. I've included the lyrics below.

Back in 1876 an ol' boy named Bell

Invented a contraption that we know so well

By the 1950's they were in everybody's home

As a crazy little thing they call the telephone

Now there's one on every corner, in the back of every bar

You can get one in your briefcase, on a plane or in your car

So tell me why, haven't I heard from you

Tell me why, haven't I heard from you

I say now: Darlin', honey, what is your excuse

Why haven't I heard from you

Well there's no problem gettin' to me

Baby you can dial direct

I got call forwarding and call waiting

You can even call collect

The service man he told me that my phone is working fine

And I've come to the conclusion trouble isn't with my line

I'm sure the operator will be glad to put you thru

So dial zero for assistance if this all confuses you

So tell me why, haven't I heard from you

Tell me why, haven't I heard from you

I say now: Darlin', honey, what is your excuse

Why haven't I heard from you

There better been a flood, a landslide of mud

A fire that burns up the wires

And a thunder so loud with a black funnel cloud

A natural disaster I know nothin' about

(Repeat Chorus).

At the time, I didn't understand what on Earth my chorus teacher (or Reba) was talking about. I was thirteen years old, perhaps at the all time height of my popularity. Guys disappear and don't return your calls? Not a chance. My 7th grade boyfriend called me every night before bed. I didn't know what this broad was talking about. Well, fast forward fifteen years later. And, Ms. Washington, I know EXACTLY the tune you're singing. You are singing to the choir. (Literally).

As always, a recent trauma has inspired this blog post. This event was the result of my birthday aftermath, when I received some birthday booty.

I know, bad Lauren. If you want someone to take you seriously/want to see you again/date you in the future, you don't go home with them the first night. I try and live by this rule. However, I have two counter arguments. The first: I have had some successful backwards dates. Dates, that developed after we have both seen each other naked. And, second: It was my birthday. I was ten Bacardi and Diet Cokes deep. I remember nothing about the night. (Literally nothing).

I had no coherent thoughts, telling me to make a better choice. If I had any at all, they would have been, "God, my feet hurt."

This boy was a friend of a friend, and so I thought that put me into a category slightly above one night stand, but I was wrong for thinking that. Not only did I not hear from him again, but when I reached out to him, I received nothing in return. Not even a "Sorry, things are really crazy with work," text. (Subtext: I have no intentions of seeing you again). These texts also suck, but atleast it's a response. If there is any one takeaway in this blog posting, it is this: Do not plain old ignore someone you hooked up with, it is just mean.