(no subject)
After taking a short hiatus, I've decided that regardless of the fact that only one of my many friends gives feedback, I'm going to post anyway, because like I once said, this journal is for me -- to feel free and open -- and not for acceptance or feeling popular or any of those other petty reasons that people start blogs. Well, maybe I never said that, but it was implied.
Last night, because I am a very vengeful person, I put lunch meat on Library Boy's car. You don't know who Library Boy is, so I suppose I will have to explain somehow.
I first set my eyes upon Library Boy when I was in the tenth grade. I'd go into the library with my friends every day during lunch and I'd see him in there alone. He always wore black. Naturally, I thought about him a lot, and why he was alone in the library. I don't know. It just bothered me a lot and I had this overwhelming feeling that I really needed to go talk to him. I almost did one day, but the bell rang by the time I'd bundled up enough courage and got halfway to his table. (I'm not very confident in approaching people that I don't know, which is ironic as I actually do so quite often. That is life.)
So I never met Library Boy in the tenth grade. But by a fortunate (or not so fortunate, I suppose) turn of events, I met him last semester. Mostly, we talked on Facebook, but we did meet up in the libray once (hm... not my say, actually; coincedence?) and I'd see him in the hallway now and then. Eventually he sent me this monumental Facebook message. He was under the impression that I was quite fond of him, in a romantic way, and he suggested we "further aquaint ourselves in person." But he also said to me that he found me very physically un-attractive and so on and so forth. But he was going to 'give me a chance,' as they say, because of some advice his manager (Chick-fil-A employee at the time) gave him and because he ran "risk-benefit." I am very strongly opposed to the whole the-girl-should-please-the-guy concept and I fully want a man who likes me for everything that I am, flaws and all, and isn't going to give me a chance just because no one else has ever liked him. And I am not a math problem, so calculating the risks vs. the benefits of going on a date with me is absolutely ridiculous. Contrary to what I told Library Boy, I was head over heels for him, even if he had horrible acne and liked math and science way too much and wore black t-shirts every day and wore brown sandals with a black t-shirt once and was terribly blunt/rude to me in that message without even trying to be and etc. And I still am. I love him. Or maybe not love. But I feel very strongly for him, even if I want to hate him. I mean, I told him I wasn't interested in him that way and that I was only being friendly. Who wouldn't? Taking such an offer would not only be idiotic but would, in fact, confirm that I had not an ounce of self-respect. But he insisted that we still continue talking because he enjoyed conversing with me "about [his] life" and such, and I figured, "Why not?"
Here we are, four months later, maybe a little more. He stopped talking to me one day and I'm not really sure why.
So anyway, I was over at a friend's house as she was finishing up some assignments for an online class. Two other friends had shown up, and as they were leaving, one of them and I decided to vandalize his car. All we actually ended up doing was pretty feeble; I giggled and ran and prayed that my chest wouldn't explode in his best friend's driveway and she attached a gum wrapper to his side-view mirror with my hair tie.
We ran like madwomen all the way back to the first friend's house. I could feel the "adrenalin pumping through my gut...." (Quotation courtesy of LB, himself, from that fateful message.)
The thing is, however, that I really wanted my stupid hair tie back. And my first friend really wanted to fulfill the lunch meat plan, so as she hurriedly finished her last assignment, I devised a plan: Operation Ham. She was Cold Noodles and I was Baby Face. (I wish we'd had walkie-talkies. It would've made it absolutely perfect.)
But she didn't have any cooked ham in her fridge, just balogna and white meat turkey, which is still a semi-popular lunch meat, and LB seems like the lunch meat turkey type anyway. A little plain, leaving you wondering why it doesn't actually taste like turkey anyway. I stored away two slices of the round white meat turkey and we continued on with Operation Ham Turkey. (For those of you that are unaware, balogna damages the paint job on vehicles and putting balogna on his car would've ruined it. You see, he is very into cars, especially his, and not only could I have been sued and/or imprisoned, but I also would've felt bad. Even his vehicle holds a place in my heart, apparently. Pathetic. I am no Carrie Underwood, apparently.)
I tried to stay in dark areas at all times, while approaching the house, as all great spies do. I crouched down so that I was hidden behind the horde of vehicles parked around the house. (They were having a nerdling poker party and the host lives caddy-corner to my first friend.) Upon approaching said vehicle, I deposited one slice of turkey on the back, sort of hiding it under that ledge that some cars have; the ones that make it look like it could fly, I guess. Then I ran like the wind. But my first friend wanted to put the other slice on, so we snuck back and she plopped one right on his front windshield. And she moved my slice to the back window, which was unfavorable as I thought it might be funny if it were somewhat hidden and he found it a week later. Or more. And then we ran like the wind.
Aforementioned poker party was not a man sleepover (a.k.a. "all nighter"), just a late-night gathering. Boys are peculiar that way. Around 11PM, my frist friend snuck out for a few seconds to check. The cars were gone.
Even later, she checked Facebook. So far, no further information on Operation Ham Turkey.
Last night, because I am a very vengeful person, I put lunch meat on Library Boy's car. You don't know who Library Boy is, so I suppose I will have to explain somehow.
I first set my eyes upon Library Boy when I was in the tenth grade. I'd go into the library with my friends every day during lunch and I'd see him in there alone. He always wore black. Naturally, I thought about him a lot, and why he was alone in the library. I don't know. It just bothered me a lot and I had this overwhelming feeling that I really needed to go talk to him. I almost did one day, but the bell rang by the time I'd bundled up enough courage and got halfway to his table. (I'm not very confident in approaching people that I don't know, which is ironic as I actually do so quite often. That is life.)
So I never met Library Boy in the tenth grade. But by a fortunate (or not so fortunate, I suppose) turn of events, I met him last semester. Mostly, we talked on Facebook, but we did meet up in the libray once (hm... not my say, actually; coincedence?) and I'd see him in the hallway now and then. Eventually he sent me this monumental Facebook message. He was under the impression that I was quite fond of him, in a romantic way, and he suggested we "further aquaint ourselves in person." But he also said to me that he found me very physically un-attractive and so on and so forth. But he was going to 'give me a chance,' as they say, because of some advice his manager (Chick-fil-A employee at the time) gave him and because he ran "risk-benefit." I am very strongly opposed to the whole the-girl-should-please-the-guy concept and I fully want a man who likes me for everything that I am, flaws and all, and isn't going to give me a chance just because no one else has ever liked him. And I am not a math problem, so calculating the risks vs. the benefits of going on a date with me is absolutely ridiculous. Contrary to what I told Library Boy, I was head over heels for him, even if he had horrible acne and liked math and science way too much and wore black t-shirts every day and wore brown sandals with a black t-shirt once and was terribly blunt/rude to me in that message without even trying to be and etc. And I still am. I love him. Or maybe not love. But I feel very strongly for him, even if I want to hate him. I mean, I told him I wasn't interested in him that way and that I was only being friendly. Who wouldn't? Taking such an offer would not only be idiotic but would, in fact, confirm that I had not an ounce of self-respect. But he insisted that we still continue talking because he enjoyed conversing with me "about [his] life" and such, and I figured, "Why not?"
Here we are, four months later, maybe a little more. He stopped talking to me one day and I'm not really sure why.
So anyway, I was over at a friend's house as she was finishing up some assignments for an online class. Two other friends had shown up, and as they were leaving, one of them and I decided to vandalize his car. All we actually ended up doing was pretty feeble; I giggled and ran and prayed that my chest wouldn't explode in his best friend's driveway and she attached a gum wrapper to his side-view mirror with my hair tie.
We ran like madwomen all the way back to the first friend's house. I could feel the "adrenalin pumping through my gut...." (Quotation courtesy of LB, himself, from that fateful message.)
The thing is, however, that I really wanted my stupid hair tie back. And my first friend really wanted to fulfill the lunch meat plan, so as she hurriedly finished her last assignment, I devised a plan: Operation Ham. She was Cold Noodles and I was Baby Face. (I wish we'd had walkie-talkies. It would've made it absolutely perfect.)
But she didn't have any cooked ham in her fridge, just balogna and white meat turkey, which is still a semi-popular lunch meat, and LB seems like the lunch meat turkey type anyway. A little plain, leaving you wondering why it doesn't actually taste like turkey anyway. I stored away two slices of the round white meat turkey and we continued on with Operation Ham Turkey. (For those of you that are unaware, balogna damages the paint job on vehicles and putting balogna on his car would've ruined it. You see, he is very into cars, especially his, and not only could I have been sued and/or imprisoned, but I also would've felt bad. Even his vehicle holds a place in my heart, apparently. Pathetic. I am no Carrie Underwood, apparently.)
I tried to stay in dark areas at all times, while approaching the house, as all great spies do. I crouched down so that I was hidden behind the horde of vehicles parked around the house. (They were having a nerdling poker party and the host lives caddy-corner to my first friend.) Upon approaching said vehicle, I deposited one slice of turkey on the back, sort of hiding it under that ledge that some cars have; the ones that make it look like it could fly, I guess. Then I ran like the wind. But my first friend wanted to put the other slice on, so we snuck back and she plopped one right on his front windshield. And she moved my slice to the back window, which was unfavorable as I thought it might be funny if it were somewhat hidden and he found it a week later. Or more. And then we ran like the wind.
Aforementioned poker party was not a man sleepover (a.k.a. "all nighter"), just a late-night gathering. Boys are peculiar that way. Around 11PM, my frist friend snuck out for a few seconds to check. The cars were gone.
Even later, she checked Facebook. So far, no further information on Operation Ham Turkey.