Jeff and Annie's Page-a-Day Calendar (7/?)
Hello Again!
I'm not really sure why the last few of these have been so Jeff-oriented, but there you go.
I've been wanting to make a montage for a while, but I've only been able to gather about half the clips I'd like to use. I noticed the section for clips on this site, but they're .wmv format, which would mean that all of those clips would have a big ugly watermark on them from the program I'd use to convert them. Does anyone know where I might get clips in .mov, .mpeg, or .avi format? Thanks!
As always, enjoy :)
Peace and Love,
~ Moosey ~
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Jeff Winger hated school dances. You wouldn’t think it to look at his recent track record - he did, after all, have the coveted “All 5 Dances” T-Shirt in his closet from the year before. Way in the back of his closet, that is. Behind the cowboy costume and the bad 80s clothes he kept around “for nostalgia” (He was pretty sure he’d lost his virginity in one of those sequined body suits, but it had been quite dark at the time, and he couldn’t exactly remember which one).
Junior High had been an unusually awkward time for him. Devilish good looks as he had working for him, it seemed few were interested in dancing with the lanky, clumsy boy, even with the enforced arm’s length distance between dance partners - and his were long arms. So he propped himself against a wall on the far side of the makeshift dance floor in the tiny and poorly-disguised cafeteria, carefully sliding his all-too-practiced air of arrogant indifference into place as he avoided eye contact with the chaperones. Jeff was awesome. Clearly girls were intimidated by everything he had to offer their fragile egos. What did he care.
He avoided dances altogether until it came time for the senior prom. He’d opened his locker one day to reveal an invitation from Danielle Pickerman embossed with fancy lettering, and sealed with a lipstick kiss. It was no secret to his High School at large that he liked her. He’d been harboring his crush since Grade School, when she’d pulled his hair, and he’d given her a peck on the lips behind the monkey bars (It was, after all, the only way to keep her from messing up his do). But when he approached her at the dance, palms unnaturally sweaty, and a rose in his lapel, she revealed - albeit regretfully - that the invitation had been intended for the locker adjacent to his. And then strode off to the dance floor with her date, Kevin Myers. Two days later, he would lose the vote of “Most Handsome” to that loser, but for now he just sat, staring down at the cheap tablecloth in front of him, the rose held crumpled in his fist.
He had, in fact, been to more dances since entering this cesspool of a Community College than he had in all his years growing up. And few more good memories accompanied his recent torture than that of his childhood. But this one, surprisingly, kind of took the bill. Worse than watching Chang gyrate against Troy and Pierce - or his own wife, for that matter. Worse than undue confessions of love, or coy references to blackmail-worthy tirades that he doesn’t remember recording. Worse than even the revelation that he didn’t want to have sex with a perfectly willing, perfectly hot date…Were the wide, disheartened eyes across the room. Annie stood against the opposite wall, her head bobbing slightly in time with the music as she tried desperately to look as though this was just where she wanted to be. How none of the men had capitalized on this opportunity to steal her away and press their skeevy bodies against her own was entirely beyond him, but he knew her stance too well to pretend he hadn’t noticed it. So with a sigh so ill-executed that even he would scoff at his sorry attempt at indifference, he pushed off from the wall behind him, sauntering toward her.
“Milady,” he began, hand extended toward her as she whipped her head to face him, “May I have this dance?” She smiled, nodding enthusiastically as she, too, failed to conceal her true feelings at the prospect. And the two set off, hand in sweaty hand, to claim their spot on the dance floor, beside Troy, and Britta, and Abed, and Shirley, and Pierce, and - yes, even Chang. Just the way it should always be.
That is until the abrupt change of music to a much slower song - no doubt Abed’s doing in his attempt to honor the inevitable awkward/exhilarating moment between secret crushes at their newfound proximity, before giving in to their impulses and dancing just a little closer than necessary. Jeff was not a teen movie buff, and as he watched his friends - save for Troy and Britta - leave the floor, even he knew that this was what was supposed to happen. Still, he couldn’t help but silently thank the guy. After all, school dances weren’t that bad.
I'm not really sure why the last few of these have been so Jeff-oriented, but there you go.
I've been wanting to make a montage for a while, but I've only been able to gather about half the clips I'd like to use. I noticed the section for clips on this site, but they're .wmv format, which would mean that all of those clips would have a big ugly watermark on them from the program I'd use to convert them. Does anyone know where I might get clips in .mov, .mpeg, or .avi format? Thanks!
As always, enjoy :)
Peace and Love,
~ Moosey ~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeff Winger hated school dances. You wouldn’t think it to look at his recent track record - he did, after all, have the coveted “All 5 Dances” T-Shirt in his closet from the year before. Way in the back of his closet, that is. Behind the cowboy costume and the bad 80s clothes he kept around “for nostalgia” (He was pretty sure he’d lost his virginity in one of those sequined body suits, but it had been quite dark at the time, and he couldn’t exactly remember which one).
Junior High had been an unusually awkward time for him. Devilish good looks as he had working for him, it seemed few were interested in dancing with the lanky, clumsy boy, even with the enforced arm’s length distance between dance partners - and his were long arms. So he propped himself against a wall on the far side of the makeshift dance floor in the tiny and poorly-disguised cafeteria, carefully sliding his all-too-practiced air of arrogant indifference into place as he avoided eye contact with the chaperones. Jeff was awesome. Clearly girls were intimidated by everything he had to offer their fragile egos. What did he care.
He avoided dances altogether until it came time for the senior prom. He’d opened his locker one day to reveal an invitation from Danielle Pickerman embossed with fancy lettering, and sealed with a lipstick kiss. It was no secret to his High School at large that he liked her. He’d been harboring his crush since Grade School, when she’d pulled his hair, and he’d given her a peck on the lips behind the monkey bars (It was, after all, the only way to keep her from messing up his do). But when he approached her at the dance, palms unnaturally sweaty, and a rose in his lapel, she revealed - albeit regretfully - that the invitation had been intended for the locker adjacent to his. And then strode off to the dance floor with her date, Kevin Myers. Two days later, he would lose the vote of “Most Handsome” to that loser, but for now he just sat, staring down at the cheap tablecloth in front of him, the rose held crumpled in his fist.
He had, in fact, been to more dances since entering this cesspool of a Community College than he had in all his years growing up. And few more good memories accompanied his recent torture than that of his childhood. But this one, surprisingly, kind of took the bill. Worse than watching Chang gyrate against Troy and Pierce - or his own wife, for that matter. Worse than undue confessions of love, or coy references to blackmail-worthy tirades that he doesn’t remember recording. Worse than even the revelation that he didn’t want to have sex with a perfectly willing, perfectly hot date…Were the wide, disheartened eyes across the room. Annie stood against the opposite wall, her head bobbing slightly in time with the music as she tried desperately to look as though this was just where she wanted to be. How none of the men had capitalized on this opportunity to steal her away and press their skeevy bodies against her own was entirely beyond him, but he knew her stance too well to pretend he hadn’t noticed it. So with a sigh so ill-executed that even he would scoff at his sorry attempt at indifference, he pushed off from the wall behind him, sauntering toward her.
“Milady,” he began, hand extended toward her as she whipped her head to face him, “May I have this dance?” She smiled, nodding enthusiastically as she, too, failed to conceal her true feelings at the prospect. And the two set off, hand in sweaty hand, to claim their spot on the dance floor, beside Troy, and Britta, and Abed, and Shirley, and Pierce, and - yes, even Chang. Just the way it should always be.
That is until the abrupt change of music to a much slower song - no doubt Abed’s doing in his attempt to honor the inevitable awkward/exhilarating moment between secret crushes at their newfound proximity, before giving in to their impulses and dancing just a little closer than necessary. Jeff was not a teen movie buff, and as he watched his friends - save for Troy and Britta - leave the floor, even he knew that this was what was supposed to happen. Still, he couldn’t help but silently thank the guy. After all, school dances weren’t that bad.