Dr. Girthlove Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Make A Valentine For Susan Glenn


A last-ditch effort to woo Susan Glenn comes in the form of a homemade card.


The Rolomite | Daily Girth

Susan Glenn: A female who possesses a combination of physical and behavior characteristics that make her infinitely desirable to a man or boy. Susan Glenns are held up as nearly untouchable, and their very being creates vast emotions in the men who covet them.

Arts And Crafts Time

It’s a Friday afternoon and I’m slaving away with a red crayon. I haven’t used a crayon like this in decades, yet I’m trying to color every bit of this white paper. Construction paper, scissors, glue, a black marker and a pencil are my other tools.

The paper still has white spots.

This isn’t a kindergarten project. Far from it, I’m an adult and this is serious. I’m attempting to make a Valentine’s Day card from scratch. I remember how taxing it was to color when I was younger; growing up doesn’t give you magic powers — staying within the lines is tough and filling all the white space proves to be futile.

Losing track of time is easy when you press a crayon down to the nub. No matter how much I color, white space is still there. Damn it. This has to be perfect.

I try to write something witty on the blank paper. Not only am I brain dead with thoughts, my handwriting is less than desirable. Actually writing on paper just isn’t the same as typing in front of a computer screen.

Overthinking takes over. So much to say in such a small space. I could type it. That wouldn’t be from the corazon though.

Something has to be written in this card. And it has to be brilliant. And witty. And convincing.

This has to be perfect. I’ve never made a Valentine’s Day card and it’s a lot more time-consuming than I thought it’d be. I’ve never given anything Valentine’s to anybody, not even those ridiculous candies with sayings such as “Be Mine” and “You’re Sweet.” But this card is for Susan Glenn. It must be homemade and spectacular at the same time. This has to be perfect.

Meeting Susan Glenn

Susan Glenn captured my attention at a party years ago. There was a fair amount of people at this party. One female stood out.

She sat with a friend, chatting it up, smile cracking every so often. Even her brief smiles were luminous. It could brighten a city without power.

I asked the party host who she was. He said he would introduce me to her. Up close, she was stunning. The party host suggested I make drinks for her. And her buddy, of course. I smiled, beelined toward the drinks, mixed, then zoomed back.

Butterflies didn’t fill my stomach, no, the feeling was much more violent. Like Ruthie Camden from “7th Heaven” said, it was dinosaurs rumbling around in my midsection.

As the dinosaurs battled, I gave the girls their drinks. She was astonishing. I was blown away. I was intimidated. All I could utter was “you’re welcome” after they thanked me.

Then I scurried away.

I would see her every so often at parties and other gatherings. My nervousness continued. Saying stupid things or straight up freezing became common behavior when around her.

She seemed nice, but when you lose key IQ points in her presence, talking her up proved impossible.

The Wonders Of Facebook

Thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, I could get Susan Glenn’s attention without saying a word. Like many people, adding friends and acquaintances on Facebook was no big deal. Susan Glenn found me. Of course, I nervously accepted her friend request.

Giddiness ensued whenever she Liked or commented on my updates and photos. You know how it is — some Likes and comments mean more when they come from certain individuals.

Sometimes I sent messages to Susan Glenn regarding social events. Typing those words were more troublesome than any paper I ever wrote in college.

Eventually, I sacked up and decided to chat with her on Facebook. Susan Glenn enjoyed chatting with me so much, it became a regular thing for a couple of weeks.

Hearing this sound over and over made me happy:



Anticipating the unmistakable sound of a new chat made me even more anxious. My stomach housed a dino Royal Rumble! Susan Glenn read stories that I would write and seemed interested in every single one; she even remembered my irregular work schedule and where I would be writing.

Challenging The Universe

This was house money — no guy had ever been fortunate enough to successfully talk up a Susan Glenn.

I was in this esteemed situation and now Susan Glenn skipped waiting to chat on Facebook because our chats evolved into texts. Dozens of texts were sent every day. Texts morphed into phone calls.

During the day we texted about anything — work complications, funny stories, songs. She called me every night before going to sleep. One Saturday, Susan Glenn called me while on a Primm, Nevada trip. Just to say hi.

I had hoped every text or call was from her. Anytime it wasn’t, I felt disappointed. Not to worry though, her texts got through and she called at night.

Would the universe be kind enough to let this fortune continue? This was defying the odds, but I honestly believed I had a chance with Susan Glenn.

Although we never officially went out, I met her for coffee on two occasions. I didn’t care about the java, talking with her was more exciting than any caffeinated beverage.

Descent Into Oblivion

I felt like the sky was falling. After more than a month, Susan Glenn didn’t text as much anymore. She never said yes to an official date. Her mind was made up, she wasn’t interested enough in me.

The universe wasn’t kind after all. Its metaphorical fist hurts just like a real punch to the gut. After learning of Susan Glenn’s decision I had trouble sleeping and a lack of focus during the day. That first weekend I moped in bed the whole time, trying to force myself to take naps to ease my mind.

Not even a Lakers vs. Celtics game on a Sunday cheered me up. To this day I don’t even remember if the Lakers won that game or not; I was in and out of naptime during the contest. If you’re asleep, you can’t be bummed.

I slogged through life and it felt like walking with ankle weights.

Still Undefeated

When I was talking to Susan Glenn, she highly recommended “The Notebook.” I had seen that movie and admired how Noah, played by Ryan Gosling, fought for Rachel McAdams, even after their relationship seemed bleak.

I gave that Valentine’s Day card to Susan Glenn about two weeks after she rejected me. This was my last-ditch effort to salvage this. I felt like Noah minus the handsome-as-hell good looks. I also didn’t have access to a rowboat or a well-timed rainstorm:



The card that I made wasn’t perfect. It still had white spots where red should have been. Damn crayons. Susan Glenn thanked me and even texted me another thank you on Valentine’s Day.

But it wasn’t enough.

Susan Glenn wasn’t just beautiful, she was funny, listened well and talked a surprisingly good amount of trash. I would have eaten a bowl of guacamole, mayonnaise and onions to get another chance at Susan Glenn. I would have become a gigantic soccer fan. Obviously, I hate guacamole, mayonnaise, onions and soccer.

Every so often I see Susan Glenn. I revert to my previously weakened state whenever she’s around, kind of like Will Smith’s Hancock character does whenever Charlize Theron’s Mary gets close.

I guess Susan Glenn will remain undefeated. Like Icarus flying too high, those wings will melt when the sun hits them. My flight pattern ended up being too erratic.

Clearly, Susan Glenn wasn’t this girl’s real name. However, most guys have a Susan Glenn in their lifetime. I thought mine could have had a fairy tale ending. Real life doesn’t always produce Hollywood finishes. Who knows if there will ever be a sequel?

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