The News Feed Giveth.
The News Feed Taketh Away.

Matt's got himself in what I like to call a good old fashioned pickle.

We're changing the girl's name, though, to Danica.

He met her something like ten years ago, an innocent, high school fling. Was it at summer camp? Something like that. It lasted no more than two weeks, but it left quite the mark on Matt's memory. Everything is so much more intense at that age, when you're experiencing firsts left and right: drinking, driving, drinking and driving, sex...ual acts of some kind, depending on how baller you are for your age. Even bad stuff like pimples and your voice cracking and getting cut from sports teams is new to you when you're 15 or 16, and these events have the ability to linger with you for much longer than they probably should. You simply haven't lived for that many years at that point, and so each one that you go through is a much bigger fraction of your formative experience.

We all have our own version of Danica, then, from when we were young. Mine is from college; Matt's is from high school.

There was no such thing as Facebook back then. They were simpler times that kids today don't understand. Matt wouldn't have seen the pickle coming had he been born in the 90's. But then again, the opportunity would have never presented itself, either, had status updates not been so prolific in today's society.

I've written about my feelings on the "So and so is in a relationship with" feature on the Newsfeed before. The reason I hate it is because of the law of physics that what goes up, must come down. It's all good when you're getting heart icons next to your name, because it is a celebration of promise, of limitless possibility. But it's either humiliating or irritating when you get the broken heart icon that signifies the end of this celebration. (Irritating is not getting a trophy icon with a heart on top of it if you're stoked on getting out of the relationship.)

Danica and Matt went their separate ways after that summer of love, and they lived separate lives. High school, college, their various travels and first jobs, all of these milestones, they passed by. They stayed in touch periodically, and that promise, the youthful feeling of limitless possibility, it never quite died. Matt says they'd write each other emails on their birthdays -- Hey, how's life? -- and later, once it was invented, send Facebook messages and the like. Maybe I made that last part up; it could have been just email.

But Facebook definitely plays a part in the next stage of the story.

Danica had a boyfriend until just recently. A serious, long term one, of four or five years. Matt had simply accepted it as part of the status quo. And then, one day...

"I see her on the News Feed," he says -- quick to add that he "doesn't even check Facebook that often," which is what everyone who checks Facebook all the time says, but that "it just popped up the one time I was on" -- "and I see that (Danica Patrick) 'is now single.'"

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Back up. First let me explain why I'm calling her Danica Patrick: Because as I was writing this story over at Tony's house, I saw the Go Daddy commercial that has the actor who looks identical to Matt, freaked out at my good luck (because who likes to read long stories with no pictures?), and paused the TV to snap a photo with my phone.

Mouth agape, chin is right about the "y" in "Go Daddy.com"

This was the Super Bowl commercial where they all do an amazing job of acting like they think Danica Patrick is hot.

She's not.

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Okay we're back. Danica is now single.

"And I was just like," -- (he mimes the typing of keys on a keyboard) -- "bam, emailed her right there."

Hey. How's life?

Long story short: she booked a flight, all the way from the Pacific Northwest, just to see Matt.

That feeling of limitless possibility, it was back. When Matt had originally suggested she come down for Austin City Limits, a three-day music festival right by his apartment, she'd shot him down, but not because she doesn't like music.

"She said she wanted to spend time just with me."

Go, Daddy!

And then, just like that, it was over.

Danica is in a relationship.

(Hidden subtext: Again. With her ex-boyfriend.)

The News Feed giveth, and the News Feed taketh away. And this brings us to the pickle part of the story.

Matt's initial move was obvious: wait to see if Danica is going to tell him or not. Is she the kind of girl that would try to pull the, "What? We're just friends" line, or is she a rational human being.

The odds of the latter possibility being reality decreased with every passing day that she failed to speak up. The topic remained taboo. After all, they'd never actually spoken about what exactly triggered Matt's initial email (as far as I'm aware of, at least). But wasn't it obvious enough? Did this loophole give her the plausible deniability that would be required to act like friendship was her only aim the entire time?

The weeks leading up to this trip were full of threats and declarations by Matt, and questions and advice from us. "I'm just gonna tell her don't come." That was the most common Matt one. Or, "If she comes, she's not staying at my place. Are you kidding? No way."

We, of course, were pretty much unanimous in our position as friends: "You gotta call her out, dude." And some other things, which are not fit for print, nor even an reference on a Go Daddy Internet commercial.

There was one moment, I'll admit, when I got a little soft, the romantic inside of me proving that he is not completely dead after a year and a half of the job I've got these days. But even then, when I was encouraging him to see what was there, I included a stipulation: you gotta call her out, and ask.

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"Did Matt ever say anything to her by the way?"

"I don't think so man. I think she just came."

"That's good. That sounds about right."

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That was on Friday, when Danica's boyfriend introduced himself as an active participant in the story.

I don't remember what Matt said the text read like exactly, but I know this: Danica's boyfriend did not give a shit about "informing" Matt that his girl had left her phone at home. It was nice of him to pretend like he was just being nice, don't get me wrong. The forced, non-threatening "Thanks!" included at the end was a nice touch. But the entire act of directly contacting Matt the morning Danica left was basically no different than a dog lifting his leg and urinating all over and around the fire hydrant that is his girlfriend.

... who is now in a relationship, again.

(Actually that is a great idea. Facebook should totally have the "again" addendum automatically added to anyone that gets back together with an ex within two weeks.)

The tone of the entire weekend had basically been set, even though Danica was still on a plane, probably not even in Texas airspace yet. It was like Brady tearing his ACL against Kansas City in the season opener following their Super Bowl run the year before.

"Playoffs?!"

At least it was just the weekend, though. He could get through it and then tell us about the awkwardness around the water cooler on Monday.

Or not. Or he could have taken Monday and Tuesday as vacation days, and turned it into a four night, five day awk festival. So much more fun than a three day rock festival, since it is "just" Mat and Danica.

How Matt is feeling right now.

Without divulging too many personal details, I'll just summarize it by saying that Danica's visit was perhaps not exactly what Matt had dreamt it would be.

"Dude, please come hang out today with us."

"I don't know man, I wouldn't want to interrupt..."

Which I didn't. Kyle didn't either. For starters, it was funnier this way. But even without that, who wants to pay $15 to go see semi-pro Austin Aztex play soccer against "St. Louis"? (Matt said there wasn't even a team name for the opponent readily visible in the stadium; it was just called "St. Louis," as if it was a Buffalo Wild Wings commercial.)

And so, after letting the two friends without benefits enjoy their Friday and Saturday nights together, I finally got to meet Danica on Sunday afternoon, when they came over to watch the Texans-Cowboys game at Tony's house.

She walked in wearing a Tony Romo jersey.

Didn't matter that it wasn't even her jersey, or her team, or that she didn't like sports at all. Matt may have forced her to wear it, but I didn't care. Strike one.

Then, when I was telling her about Yingtai and Double Rainbow, and set her up with Tony's laptop and the original footage on YouTube so she could see it, too, she didn't laugh.

"It's starting to look like a triple rainbow."

She didn't even chuckle.

"This goes on for how long?" she asked.

"Six minutes," I said, incorrectly. It's actually only three and a half minutes long.

"But why would I want to watch this for six minutes?"

(silence)

I don't even understand the question... what does this mean?

Any girl who doesn't think Double Rainbow is funny is no match for my friend Matt.

Strike two.

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"You know I'm recycling now, too, right?" Matt, the opposite of an environmentalist, said when we were taking a man break outside during half time.

"For what, the next two days?"

"Yeah."

She's from the Pacific Northwest.

And so thus concludes the story about Matt and the pickle he is currently in. The lesson is that Facebook is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that it provides valuable intelligence in departments such as, "Is she still hot?" and "Did she just break up with her boyfriend of five years?" A curse because it also informs us of when she immediately gets back together with him.

"Wouldn't change anything," he texted me at one point during this tribulation, trying his best to be optimistic. And that's a good attitude to have. Honestly, it is. Sure, it sucks to have the scent of her boyfriend's territorial piss lingering in your apartment for five days, but at least you get the story.

But hey, maybe I've spoken too soon. She leaves Tuesday, which is today, but it's midnight right now. And the stench on that fire hydrant may have started to wear off.

Actually just go to my blog.

You never know.