Hi guys.
I feel like it's been a while since I've posted anything, doesn't it? Well, not for you, probably. But it feels like a while for me. So there.
I'm not sure what to say, though. Things are the same. Frustratingly, miraculously, depressingly the same. I think about Bryan every day. Every hour, it feels like. Seeing him and talking to him makes my world shine brighter, and the rest of my day feels good, no matter what.
He acts like I'm his only real friend on campus. Whenever we're in a group, he gravitates towards me. When I'm talking to other people, he watches me. I'm pretty sure he doesn't realize that I can see him when he's staring at me.
Everything should be great, right? I mean, this is what a happy relationship sounds like. Except that we're NOT in a relationship. I have to describe him as "my friend, Bryan." And it hurts like a bitch when I do.
And we have a big problem. Those of you that have any knowledge of school anywhere know that December is the end of a semester. I'm currently one week from done with all of my classes. Today is my last German class, and our final is next Wednesday.
It's breaking my heart.
Because German is the reason I get to see Bryan every day. Four days of every week, I am guaranteed to get the dose of Bryan that has, somehow, become necessary to live.
Well, that's a bit melodramatic, isn't it. I sound like Bella Swan.
Oh dear.
Well, anyway, today is my last day of German. The final doesn't count-- we walk in, take the test, and leave. Auf Wiedersehen. And that absolutely terrifies me. I'm so scared that Bryan and I won't see each other as much, and this whatever-we-have will just... fade. We're both just anti-social enough to let that happen. And God, but that just feels horrible.
I want to talk to him about it. I want to be all, "Listen... I don't want to push you. I know you asked for time to suss out your feelings, and that's fine... but our time is running out. I won't get to see you nearly as much next semester, and I don't know where this leaves us. Do you like me nearly as much as I like you? "
But that IS pushing him. He should be the one to make the next move... right? I mean, I agreed to give him time to figure out if he likes me or not. I shouldn't be pestering him about it. But.... FEELS. I can't handle these feels. My heart is like this trampoline: sometimes I'm just bouncing and happy, but sometimes my leg gets stuck in the springs and I'm like, "WHYYYYY."
Is it wrong to be impatient? Is it wrong to demand honesty? Is it wrong to feel so strongly about someone when they have absolutely no obligation to care back?
Feels like it. Ugh.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Socially Awkward Romance Part 4
I haven't posted in a while, mainly because nothing really definitive has happened. Bryan and I text all the time now. I mean, like for hours, every other day. Ish. Sometimes I text him first. Sometimes he texts me first.
(Okay. To be honest, the narrative should read, "Sometimes I give in and text him. Sometimes I stay strong and wait/pray/hope he texts me. Typically, I'm a pretty weak person.")
We talk about anything and everything. Why he hates Christmas, how glorious Tumblr is. Last night, we concocted a plot for becoming crime-fighting vigilantes, only with squirrels instead of bats. It's fantastic. But, it sucks. When I'm not texting him, I'm wishing I could be texting him. When I'm texting him, I wish we could be hanging out in person. And when I see him in real person, it's like my brain turns to stupid mode. All my witty repartee vanishes. It's horrible.
So, verbally, I'm getting nothing. Bryan could be my best friend, the way we talk. It's all humor and out-joking each other and out-nerding each other. (For the record, I currently have him beat. Star Trek, baby.) But physically? He sending all kinds of signals.
"What do you mean, Jenica?" you ask. "If you are so socially awkward, how do you know what to look for when it comes to reading people?"
Well, my somewhat-snarky reader, the answer is elementary: I researched it. I went online and, in typical me fashion, googled "How to tell if a boy likes you."
Yes. Go ahead. Facepalm. I have no shame.
A lot of the websites/quizzes I read contained many of the same kinds of thought patterns. I shall list them, along with my observations of Bryan's behavior.
I just... I know he likes me. The physical signs say it. Our story (recap of relevant info: We went on a date. He knows I have a crush on him. He isn't pulling away.) says it. I FEEL it. But... I hate this. I hate that my feelings keep growing and growing and he could still turn around and say, "Well... I don't like you. Let's be friends." I hate that every time we hang out, I have to explain to my friends that I have a "kinda-sorta date with Bryan." It's humiliating. I feel like everyone feels sorry for me, when they have no reason to do so. I'm happy but, I wish this were more real.
I feel like I'm sketching this gorgeous work of art in graphite. It's beautiful and it would be really hard to destroy, but... it could be erased. Bryan could take a chunk of rubber to it and ruin it all. I want to start using ink now. I want to Sharpie the fuck out of this drawing. Yeah, we could still burn the paper, but... well... you get the picture. No pun intended.
Let's see... is there anything else to say? We're having dinner next week. I'll be sure to write it all out in grotesque detail.
Can I be honest with you guys for a second? I'm terrified of this blog. Even as I write it, I feel horrible. What if, one day in the future, Bryan finds this? I'm sorry if I've mentioned this fear before. But really. This could break our relationship. Unfortunately, I'm an open-book person. I don't internalize well. So, it's either this, I talk about it to all my friends (even the mutual ones), or I combust. This is the safest of the three. Still, I can just see us months in the future, and I call him "Bryan" by mistake, and I have to explain that I wrote an extensive blog about my feelings for him.
Dear God.
(Okay. To be honest, the narrative should read, "Sometimes I give in and text him. Sometimes I stay strong and wait/pray/hope he texts me. Typically, I'm a pretty weak person.")
We talk about anything and everything. Why he hates Christmas, how glorious Tumblr is. Last night, we concocted a plot for becoming crime-fighting vigilantes, only with squirrels instead of bats. It's fantastic. But, it sucks. When I'm not texting him, I'm wishing I could be texting him. When I'm texting him, I wish we could be hanging out in person. And when I see him in real person, it's like my brain turns to stupid mode. All my witty repartee vanishes. It's horrible.
So, verbally, I'm getting nothing. Bryan could be my best friend, the way we talk. It's all humor and out-joking each other and out-nerding each other. (For the record, I currently have him beat. Star Trek, baby.) But physically? He sending all kinds of signals.
"What do you mean, Jenica?" you ask. "If you are so socially awkward, how do you know what to look for when it comes to reading people?"
Well, my somewhat-snarky reader, the answer is elementary: I researched it. I went online and, in typical me fashion, googled "How to tell if a boy likes you."
Yes. Go ahead. Facepalm. I have no shame.
A lot of the websites/quizzes I read contained many of the same kinds of thought patterns. I shall list them, along with my observations of Bryan's behavior.
- Does he look at you a lot? Yes. I mean, when he talks, even in large groups, he looks my way often. Sometimes I see him looking at me anyway. I try not to "notice" too often.
- Does he angle his body towards you when sitting? More specifically, do his feet face in your direction? YES. And I thought that this was a "friends" signal, like, "Hey, we're cool, and I'm going to face in your direction, but I'm not sitting close to you or whatever." You know? But, apparently sitting farther away is totally good. It's like he wants to look at you, no matter what. So... good to know. And I mean, it got to the point that he would just put his feet up on the bench between us and shit.
- Does he try to put his arm over your chair? No. Well, not quite. We sit on a bench while waiting for German, and he usually puts his arm of the back of the bench. Because we sit at opposite sides, the arm isn't really around me at all.
- Does he treat you differently than he does to others? Yes? Maybe? I mean, he talks to me more, but... I don't really know. That's sort of a hard thing to gauge. I want to say yes, but I know that my hormonal brain could be making up all sorts of things. I'm really only cataloging the concrete stuff. I know that walking through doors together is always an awkward experience.
- Pay attention to his friends. If they tease him a little, about ANYTHING, that's a good sign. I don't spend time with any of his friends. I've only met his roommate, and that was at the Glee Halloween party.
- Does he ever tease you? Our entire relationship is teasing and joking. Yes. Does he ever poke fun at me? Yes, but never meanly.
- Does he imitate you? Not to my knowledge, but I barely notice what I'm doing. Nervous hands. I'm always playing with my hair or a piece of paper or my fingernails. I don't pay attention to it.
- Does he punch/hit you playfully? No. We don't really... touch. I'm a pretty non-touchy person. I think he might be, as well. Have we touched? Obviously. We've kissed. DO we touch? Barely.
- Does he seem to go out of his way to be around you? Huh. Um. Kinda? I got out of a German midterm like five minutes after him, but I found him not far from the building, and he was walking towards it. I was a little surprised, but I didn't think much of it. Looking back, that was pretty odd. He ended up joining me on a dinner date with a friend. Awkward story? I was meeting with the friend to talk about him. So, yup.
- Does he act jealous when you talk to other boys? Yes, a bit. There's a boy in our class named Jay, and whenever I talk to him, Bryan notices. He doesn't really do anything to like, stop us, but... for example, I was looking over some notes before a quiz and Jay scooted close to me to peek over my shoulder at them. Bryan stood up and moved to my other side. He could have been looking at the notes, but... I like to believe that he dislikes Jay getting that close to me :).
I just... I know he likes me. The physical signs say it. Our story (recap of relevant info: We went on a date. He knows I have a crush on him. He isn't pulling away.) says it. I FEEL it. But... I hate this. I hate that my feelings keep growing and growing and he could still turn around and say, "Well... I don't like you. Let's be friends." I hate that every time we hang out, I have to explain to my friends that I have a "kinda-sorta date with Bryan." It's humiliating. I feel like everyone feels sorry for me, when they have no reason to do so. I'm happy but, I wish this were more real.
I feel like I'm sketching this gorgeous work of art in graphite. It's beautiful and it would be really hard to destroy, but... it could be erased. Bryan could take a chunk of rubber to it and ruin it all. I want to start using ink now. I want to Sharpie the fuck out of this drawing. Yeah, we could still burn the paper, but... well... you get the picture. No pun intended.
Let's see... is there anything else to say? We're having dinner next week. I'll be sure to write it all out in grotesque detail.
Can I be honest with you guys for a second? I'm terrified of this blog. Even as I write it, I feel horrible. What if, one day in the future, Bryan finds this? I'm sorry if I've mentioned this fear before. But really. This could break our relationship. Unfortunately, I'm an open-book person. I don't internalize well. So, it's either this, I talk about it to all my friends (even the mutual ones), or I combust. This is the safest of the three. Still, I can just see us months in the future, and I call him "Bryan" by mistake, and I have to explain that I wrote an extensive blog about my feelings for him.
Dear God.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Socially Awkward Romance, Part 3
Hey guys. So. Yup. We've got a problem.
You see, Bryan and I are at his "not-dating-but-hanging-out-with-possibility-of-romance" thing... and I'm afraid I'm very much more smitten with him now. By not putting pressure on the romantic side of our relationship, we've gotten comfortable with teasing each other and being us, and it's really great. Like, constant bubble in my chest, we text constantly and I love it, great. I call him names, he makes fun of me for making grammatical mistakes in my texts.
That said, we haven't really hung out since the first date. Okay, listen, for the purposes of this blog (and my silly teenage heart), any time we spend together, hang out or otherwise, is known as a "date." Because for real.
So I suppose I should start from after the first date, and catch you up.
I felt pretty horrible as time passed. I just... I felt like he was trying to let me down easy, and he didn't know how to be nice and honest at the same time. I also secretly feared that he was going to play games with me somehow. Like we'd hang out and I'd fall desperately in love with him, and he'd turn around and go "Well... I've figured out my feelings. I don't like you. SO SORRY."
Actually, that's still a bit of a real fear. But anyway.
After the date, I resolutely did not text him, even though I wanted to. God, it feels like I want to text him ALL THE TIME. I'm sick. After three days of no real texting, my hope had waned to near-dissolution. I was so sick of being first texter. You know what I mean? Some people receive texts unwarranted all the time. Some people have to actively seek out a conversation if they want one. I'm of the latter, usually. And I hate it. I'm a decently cool person. Obviously you think I am, reader of this shamefully self-obsessed blog of mine. Why would you read this otherwise?
Sunday was just... not cool. Our date and the following conversation was on Wednesday. All morning, I was just like, "Welp. This is it. I guess I should have known. How will I face him now? God. I hurt."
Then he texted me. Cue the sappy music and time-lapse shots of flowers blooming.
"What's shakin', puddin' pop?" he writes.
He called me puddin' pop. Just. Stop. Too Much. Joy. Here.
We end up texting for hours. He wanted to hang out that day (HE WANTED TO HANG OUT YUSS) but, alas, I was busy. So we just texted a lot instead.
Today was no different. I originally texted him about... something. I do not remember. We've been texting ever since. That started at around 4:00 pm, it 9:45 right now. He's doing NaNoWriMo, as am I (I write so goddamn much, I might as well), and now we're writing buddies as well and awkward-dating-not-dating buddies.
This really isn't much of a post. I don't have a ton to say. I'm just... happy. Really, perfectly content. And I want record of such emotions in case something horrible happens in my future and I need a perk-up.
Bryan makes me laugh. He makes everyone laugh, really. He's a brilliantly intelligent, funny guy who is somehow magically just as awkward as me (well, maybe not AS awkward, but you'd have to be a fail at society to be on my level).
Little update-- I gushed at him. Ugh. Loser. He called himself a freak and I said it was horrible to say that. He asked why and my response was, "Because freak has a highly negative connotation that shouldn't be associated with you. That might sound a little gushy, but really."
He goes, "Ohh p'ffaww. I'm nothing to holler home about."
HOW DOES THAT READ? Is this, "I'm secretly very pleased and hiding it," or "Please don't say such things, it makes me feel awkward"??
This is my life. My entire emotional existence shifts with each text message we exchange. I am so, utterly, hopelessly, silly. And maybe a little, tiny bit in love. But shh. I can't be yet, so don't tell my brain.
ANOTHER UPDATE.
I have been the mediator of a conversation between my best friend, Emilie, and Bryan. We're all doing NaNoWriMo and Bryan's word count is ridiculously high, so Emilie was like, "You are a dark wizard practicing black magic." His response.
"I am the darkest of wizards. I am the most Piceous fucking Sorcerer this side of Hogwarts. I'm getting on straight achromatic occult shit, dishing out sable spells and obsidian hexes, atramentously bewitching them bitches, ensuring they are at my most egregiously slick, stygian beck and call. Bow before the Dope-Ass Master of all Onyxian Delirious Thaumaturgic Biznasty, ladies, because it's me. [BRYAN FREER] 2012"
Panties = dropped. I can't. I need to marry this man. I need to have his babies. You don't understand. I don't even fully understand. I'm going to go be a ball of goo over here. You guys have fun being you.
You see, Bryan and I are at his "not-dating-but-hanging-out-with-possibility-of-romance" thing... and I'm afraid I'm very much more smitten with him now. By not putting pressure on the romantic side of our relationship, we've gotten comfortable with teasing each other and being us, and it's really great. Like, constant bubble in my chest, we text constantly and I love it, great. I call him names, he makes fun of me for making grammatical mistakes in my texts.
That said, we haven't really hung out since the first date. Okay, listen, for the purposes of this blog (and my silly teenage heart), any time we spend together, hang out or otherwise, is known as a "date." Because for real.
So I suppose I should start from after the first date, and catch you up.
I felt pretty horrible as time passed. I just... I felt like he was trying to let me down easy, and he didn't know how to be nice and honest at the same time. I also secretly feared that he was going to play games with me somehow. Like we'd hang out and I'd fall desperately in love with him, and he'd turn around and go "Well... I've figured out my feelings. I don't like you. SO SORRY."
Actually, that's still a bit of a real fear. But anyway.
After the date, I resolutely did not text him, even though I wanted to. God, it feels like I want to text him ALL THE TIME. I'm sick. After three days of no real texting, my hope had waned to near-dissolution. I was so sick of being first texter. You know what I mean? Some people receive texts unwarranted all the time. Some people have to actively seek out a conversation if they want one. I'm of the latter, usually. And I hate it. I'm a decently cool person. Obviously you think I am, reader of this shamefully self-obsessed blog of mine. Why would you read this otherwise?
Sunday was just... not cool. Our date and the following conversation was on Wednesday. All morning, I was just like, "Welp. This is it. I guess I should have known. How will I face him now? God. I hurt."
Then he texted me. Cue the sappy music and time-lapse shots of flowers blooming.
"What's shakin', puddin' pop?" he writes.
He called me puddin' pop. Just. Stop. Too Much. Joy. Here.
We end up texting for hours. He wanted to hang out that day (HE WANTED TO HANG OUT YUSS) but, alas, I was busy. So we just texted a lot instead.
Today was no different. I originally texted him about... something. I do not remember. We've been texting ever since. That started at around 4:00 pm, it 9:45 right now. He's doing NaNoWriMo, as am I (I write so goddamn much, I might as well), and now we're writing buddies as well and awkward-dating-not-dating buddies.
This really isn't much of a post. I don't have a ton to say. I'm just... happy. Really, perfectly content. And I want record of such emotions in case something horrible happens in my future and I need a perk-up.
Bryan makes me laugh. He makes everyone laugh, really. He's a brilliantly intelligent, funny guy who is somehow magically just as awkward as me (well, maybe not AS awkward, but you'd have to be a fail at society to be on my level).
Little update-- I gushed at him. Ugh. Loser. He called himself a freak and I said it was horrible to say that. He asked why and my response was, "Because freak has a highly negative connotation that shouldn't be associated with you. That might sound a little gushy, but really."
He goes, "Ohh p'ffaww. I'm nothing to holler home about."
HOW DOES THAT READ? Is this, "I'm secretly very pleased and hiding it," or "Please don't say such things, it makes me feel awkward"??
This is my life. My entire emotional existence shifts with each text message we exchange. I am so, utterly, hopelessly, silly. And maybe a little, tiny bit in love. But shh. I can't be yet, so don't tell my brain.
ANOTHER UPDATE.
I have been the mediator of a conversation between my best friend, Emilie, and Bryan. We're all doing NaNoWriMo and Bryan's word count is ridiculously high, so Emilie was like, "You are a dark wizard practicing black magic." His response.
"I am the darkest of wizards. I am the most Piceous fucking Sorcerer this side of Hogwarts. I'm getting on straight achromatic occult shit, dishing out sable spells and obsidian hexes, atramentously bewitching them bitches, ensuring they are at my most egregiously slick, stygian beck and call. Bow before the Dope-Ass Master of all Onyxian Delirious Thaumaturgic Biznasty, ladies, because it's me. [BRYAN FREER] 2012"
Panties = dropped. I can't. I need to marry this man. I need to have his babies. You don't understand. I don't even fully understand. I'm going to go be a ball of goo over here. You guys have fun being you.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Socially Awkward Romance Part 2
So. Huh. Um, well... I'm not sure how I feel about what I'm about to relate to you. Whomever you may be.
Today was the Date. We went to Noodles & Co. and sat down and talked about movies and life and being geeks. I told him about how I was homeschooled, and he told me about how he took forever to find a niche. I kind of went off on Hans a little bit (not in the angry way, in the frustrated and confused way), about which I promptly felt horrible, but Bryan didn't seem to mind too much. All in all, we had a good time and things went well.
After we finished eating, I decided to walk back to his dorm with him before heading home. Despite the freezing drizzle that is currently bombarding the eastern Midwest, we strolled along, talking continuously about whatever came to mind. I really shouldn't have worried about what to say-- we had not a one single awkward silence. Once we got back to his dorm, we said good-bye and I went home.
For propriety's sake, I texted him and said, "I had a very nice time." We chatted a little and I said something along the lines of, "Sorry about the Hans thing, seriously. I don't really dislike him. Hey, things won't get awkward-er now, will they?"
"What do you mean?" he responded.
"Well, we just went out on a date, and I'm secretly hoping there will be another one... will things get awkward now?" Yes, I out-and-out hinted at another date. Subtlety level = -9000.
This is where I get a little disappointed/confused/happy. He replies with something along the lines of, "Well, I'd rather things didn't get awkward, but I have to let you know that I'm not sure I feel the way about you that you feel about me. I don't NOT like you, but I'd rather us hang out and get to know each other better before drawing any conclusions."
Okay. I'll approach this a few different ways, in chronological order of thought-process. My first thought was, Oh God. No. Not this. He doesn't like me. I was immediately disappointed. I still am. I mean, I kind of went ahead and imagined this grandiose future in which we were boyfriend and girlfriend and we fell in love, etc. I'm a middle-schooler, what can I say?
But then my brain kicked in. He didn't say he DIDN'T like me, in fact, he made that point clear. And we kissed. So it's not like I'm totally off-base, here. And he's right, getting to know each other as people is more important than falling into a half-cocked romance.
Heh, half-cocked. Heh.
I jumped into a relationship senior year, with a guy with whom I was in a play. Our main form of communication was texting and we barely had a conversation before we were boyfriend/girlfriend. The word "love" was bandied about two weeks later. I hated it. He was clingy and emotionally demanding and sexually way not what I was ready to handle. But, I thought it was normal and that I was the weird one, so I tried to repress it. I mean, he was twenty and I was sixteen. I'd never had a boyfriend before, and I had no idea what to expect.
Needless to say, it ended quite badly. I repressed my disgust and discomfort for so long that it eventually just erupted out of me, and I really hurt him. I didn't say anything too horrible, mind you, but he was so emotionally insecure that my "I'm just not interested in that kind of stuff" translated to "I'm not interested in you, and you like WEIRD ASS SHIT."
Actually, that's not too far from literal reality. TMI? TMI.
So, I talked with him about my problems, and he got even clingier. It was like he was clutching me close for fear that I would fly away, to reference the idiom. I couldn't handle it and I called the whole relationship off. He crumbled. He shot me woeful glances during rehearsal and spoke around me, as if I didn't exist. It was absolutely horrible.
And that all bubbles down to this one sentence: I never want to find myself in a relationship with a relative stranger EVER EVER AGAIN. So Bryan's words made absolute sense to me.
But then my heart made a logical comeback: Isn't that what dating is? Getting to know each other to see if a romantic relationship is in the cards? I mean, that's always been my definition of dating. It takes at least three or four dates to get to relationship-level, and then things progress from there. Hold on, definition coming... Urban Dictionary defines a date as:
I'm not sure if this puts "Socially Awkward Romance" on hiatus or not... I mean, this really is a socially awkward romance... but I don't want to write about being friends with someone. I will probably continue with it, honestly. I like-- reading myself type? Ew.-- far too much to abandon this thing completely. Plus, who knows? Centuries from now, anthropologists will dig through the "World Wide Web". They may stumble upon (SEE WHAT I DID THERE? :D) this blog and think, "Ah, what a quirky and uncomfortable romance story. We should reenact this as a testament to how romance has changed since the invention of [insert technological device that helps romance somehow]."
Alright, that likelihood is low. But I have hope.
That's about all for this blog entry. I'm going to sell out a little here and tell you to drop me a comment if you a) like my blog, b) dislike my blog (if so, why?), or c) read the damn thing at all. Honestly, if you're reading my shitty blog entries, you deserve a happy-Jenica-brownie. So... I want to dwindle and type more because I have homework to do... but good-bye. I'm going to go be responsible. Ew.
Today was the Date. We went to Noodles & Co. and sat down and talked about movies and life and being geeks. I told him about how I was homeschooled, and he told me about how he took forever to find a niche. I kind of went off on Hans a little bit (not in the angry way, in the frustrated and confused way), about which I promptly felt horrible, but Bryan didn't seem to mind too much. All in all, we had a good time and things went well.
After we finished eating, I decided to walk back to his dorm with him before heading home. Despite the freezing drizzle that is currently bombarding the eastern Midwest, we strolled along, talking continuously about whatever came to mind. I really shouldn't have worried about what to say-- we had not a one single awkward silence. Once we got back to his dorm, we said good-bye and I went home.
For propriety's sake, I texted him and said, "I had a very nice time." We chatted a little and I said something along the lines of, "Sorry about the Hans thing, seriously. I don't really dislike him. Hey, things won't get awkward-er now, will they?"
"What do you mean?" he responded.
"Well, we just went out on a date, and I'm secretly hoping there will be another one... will things get awkward now?" Yes, I out-and-out hinted at another date. Subtlety level = -9000.
This is where I get a little disappointed/confused/happy. He replies with something along the lines of, "Well, I'd rather things didn't get awkward, but I have to let you know that I'm not sure I feel the way about you that you feel about me. I don't NOT like you, but I'd rather us hang out and get to know each other better before drawing any conclusions."
Okay. I'll approach this a few different ways, in chronological order of thought-process. My first thought was, Oh God. No. Not this. He doesn't like me. I was immediately disappointed. I still am. I mean, I kind of went ahead and imagined this grandiose future in which we were boyfriend and girlfriend and we fell in love, etc. I'm a middle-schooler, what can I say?
But then my brain kicked in. He didn't say he DIDN'T like me, in fact, he made that point clear. And we kissed. So it's not like I'm totally off-base, here. And he's right, getting to know each other as people is more important than falling into a half-cocked romance.
Heh, half-cocked. Heh.
I jumped into a relationship senior year, with a guy with whom I was in a play. Our main form of communication was texting and we barely had a conversation before we were boyfriend/girlfriend. The word "love" was bandied about two weeks later. I hated it. He was clingy and emotionally demanding and sexually way not what I was ready to handle. But, I thought it was normal and that I was the weird one, so I tried to repress it. I mean, he was twenty and I was sixteen. I'd never had a boyfriend before, and I had no idea what to expect.
Needless to say, it ended quite badly. I repressed my disgust and discomfort for so long that it eventually just erupted out of me, and I really hurt him. I didn't say anything too horrible, mind you, but he was so emotionally insecure that my "I'm just not interested in that kind of stuff" translated to "I'm not interested in you, and you like WEIRD ASS SHIT."
Actually, that's not too far from literal reality. TMI? TMI.
So, I talked with him about my problems, and he got even clingier. It was like he was clutching me close for fear that I would fly away, to reference the idiom. I couldn't handle it and I called the whole relationship off. He crumbled. He shot me woeful glances during rehearsal and spoke around me, as if I didn't exist. It was absolutely horrible.
And that all bubbles down to this one sentence: I never want to find myself in a relationship with a relative stranger EVER EVER AGAIN. So Bryan's words made absolute sense to me.
But then my heart made a logical comeback: Isn't that what dating is? Getting to know each other to see if a romantic relationship is in the cards? I mean, that's always been my definition of dating. It takes at least three or four dates to get to relationship-level, and then things progress from there. Hold on, definition coming... Urban Dictionary defines a date as:
That's Urban Dictionary. You don't fuck with that shit. So, essentially, Bryan wants us to date. He just doesn't want to call it dating. So... I'm disappointed/confused/happy."Two people getting together for an activity when the possibility of romance between them has been broached but not ruled out. Since the exploration of romance is the purpose of a date, merely asking someone out on a date is sufficient to broach the subject. Dates may or not continue once a couple have entered into a romantic relationship. The word "date" may be used to identify a get together between two people not romantically involved, but this usage is meant to convey irony, since such a meeting is not a date in the true sense of the word."
I'm not sure if this puts "Socially Awkward Romance" on hiatus or not... I mean, this really is a socially awkward romance... but I don't want to write about being friends with someone. I will probably continue with it, honestly. I like-- reading myself type? Ew.-- far too much to abandon this thing completely. Plus, who knows? Centuries from now, anthropologists will dig through the "World Wide Web". They may stumble upon (SEE WHAT I DID THERE? :D) this blog and think, "Ah, what a quirky and uncomfortable romance story. We should reenact this as a testament to how romance has changed since the invention of [insert technological device that helps romance somehow]."
Alright, that likelihood is low. But I have hope.
That's about all for this blog entry. I'm going to sell out a little here and tell you to drop me a comment if you a) like my blog, b) dislike my blog (if so, why?), or c) read the damn thing at all. Honestly, if you're reading my shitty blog entries, you deserve a happy-Jenica-brownie. So... I want to dwindle and type more because I have homework to do... but good-bye. I'm going to go be responsible. Ew.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Socially Awkward Romance 1.5
I think this might me too much excitement for me. Seriously. I should not be allowed to ponder my suddenly successful love life this much.
I guess I knew this was coming. Perhaps I should explain.
I asked Bryan out on Friday. Well, technically Saturday, but hush. Today is Monday. I've had three full days to replay the entire me-asking-him-out-us-kissing scene as many times as possible. I have, in my typical fashion, analyzed, cross-examined, and blushed about it to death. I have examined every way I would have done things differently, and have calculated the likelihood that my reactions were "adorkable," and not just terrible. These numbers grow steadily more pessimistic as time passes.
I tried to text him yesterday, at the advice of a friend. Well, I did text him. He responded well, and then I got overexcited and didn't know what to write and texted something relatively off-topic and awkward. God. I really shouldn't be allowed near boys. At least not attractive, funny, smart ones. I turn into a fool.
So, every night I lie in bed and say, "Time to go to sleep!" I let my thoughts drift, hoping that they will take a sleepy turn so I can wake up well-rested. But lately, I find myself thinking, "Today was a good day, [insert trivial stuff in here]. I have some great friends. I wonder what Bryan's friends are like. I should ask him about them when we go to Noodles. You can learn a lot about someone by what their friends are like. What does that say about me? That I'm awesome, I guess. What else should we talk about? I suppose we could talk about music, too. That's usually a good safe-- I'M NOT TIRED AT ALL! Ugh, brain, stop thinking about Bryan and go to sleep. That safe blackness.... Bryan looks good in black. I wonder if I look good in black. Doesn't everyone? Bryan wears a lot of black, though. I wonder if he was an emo, back when emos were cool. I was a bit of an emo. I bet we can bond over tha--- GODDAMMIT. BRAIN. SLEEP. COME ON."
This is ridiculous. I have a midterm on Wednesday in Organic Chemistry, and I sit there and think, "And that's an aprotic solvent, so Sn2 reactions would work, and geez this is boring. What will I get at Noodles? I'm kinda sick of the Truffle Mac. Maybe I'll get something Asian. I wonder what Bryan will get. Hmm.... can I deduce what he'll order, like Sherlock Holmes? That'd be fun, if I got it right... and then the cyanide ion nucleophillically attacks the carbocation, and whoa, did I just get way off track there? Oops."
Help! Hormones have taken over my body! O^O
This is a bit of a filler post, I guess. I just needed to push some of my anxiety out. Maybe I'll be able to focus better now. And I very very strongly doubt Bryan is anywhere near as affected by all of this, which makes it that much worse. It's one lousy date. I went on a date with HANS, for Christ's sake. Bryan's probably totally chill about all of this. I feel so sorry that he has to handle me. I'm a mess. Is this anywhere near normal? I doubt it. Blah. Girls. We suck. I suck. :(
I guess I knew this was coming. Perhaps I should explain.
I asked Bryan out on Friday. Well, technically Saturday, but hush. Today is Monday. I've had three full days to replay the entire me-asking-him-out-us-kissing scene as many times as possible. I have, in my typical fashion, analyzed, cross-examined, and blushed about it to death. I have examined every way I would have done things differently, and have calculated the likelihood that my reactions were "adorkable," and not just terrible. These numbers grow steadily more pessimistic as time passes.
I tried to text him yesterday, at the advice of a friend. Well, I did text him. He responded well, and then I got overexcited and didn't know what to write and texted something relatively off-topic and awkward. God. I really shouldn't be allowed near boys. At least not attractive, funny, smart ones. I turn into a fool.
So, every night I lie in bed and say, "Time to go to sleep!" I let my thoughts drift, hoping that they will take a sleepy turn so I can wake up well-rested. But lately, I find myself thinking, "Today was a good day, [insert trivial stuff in here]. I have some great friends. I wonder what Bryan's friends are like. I should ask him about them when we go to Noodles. You can learn a lot about someone by what their friends are like. What does that say about me? That I'm awesome, I guess. What else should we talk about? I suppose we could talk about music, too. That's usually a good safe-- I'M NOT TIRED AT ALL! Ugh, brain, stop thinking about Bryan and go to sleep. That safe blackness.... Bryan looks good in black. I wonder if I look good in black. Doesn't everyone? Bryan wears a lot of black, though. I wonder if he was an emo, back when emos were cool. I was a bit of an emo. I bet we can bond over tha--- GODDAMMIT. BRAIN. SLEEP. COME ON."
This is ridiculous. I have a midterm on Wednesday in Organic Chemistry, and I sit there and think, "And that's an aprotic solvent, so Sn2 reactions would work, and geez this is boring. What will I get at Noodles? I'm kinda sick of the Truffle Mac. Maybe I'll get something Asian. I wonder what Bryan will get. Hmm.... can I deduce what he'll order, like Sherlock Holmes? That'd be fun, if I got it right... and then the cyanide ion nucleophillically attacks the carbocation, and whoa, did I just get way off track there? Oops."
Help! Hormones have taken over my body! O^O
This is a bit of a filler post, I guess. I just needed to push some of my anxiety out. Maybe I'll be able to focus better now. And I very very strongly doubt Bryan is anywhere near as affected by all of this, which makes it that much worse. It's one lousy date. I went on a date with HANS, for Christ's sake. Bryan's probably totally chill about all of this. I feel so sorry that he has to handle me. I'm a mess. Is this anywhere near normal? I doubt it. Blah. Girls. We suck. I suck. :(
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Socially Awkward Romance, Part 1
Hiya. So, some big things have happened recently that make me want to place their memory in cyberspace forevermore. This is the chronicle of my socially awkward romance. We have a deliciously uncomfortable start.
As many of you can tell by the posting date, I am writing this entry the Saturday before Halloween. If you are or have ever been a college student, you know what that means: parties. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
If you read "Socially Awkward Courting," you'll remember that this guy, Hans (not his real name), liked me, but I wasn't really aware that we were more than friends, and the whole thing blew up in my face. You'll also remember that I had a mondo-crush on this other boy, Bryan (again, not his real name), who was Hans' little. You can see that this is a... delicate situation. And I am a bull in a china shop. Oh well. (Actually, that's not a good analogy, because bulls just avoid the object. Mythbusters, man. Cracking down on the idioms.)
Alright, let's combine these two concepts: there was a Glee party last night, which both Bryan and I attended. We spent a lot of the night together, being awkward friends. We both smoke weed, so we ended up doing that a bit, too. Sorry, if I have any readers out there that take moral offense to my drug use. I'd combat that with, "It's a party! Underage drinking!"... but I don't care. You can accept my recreational pursuits or not, it's your choice.
So we were both high, watching all the drunk people act stupid. It's a pretty fun time, not gonna lie. But the loudness (both audibly and socially) got to me, so we decided to head down to the basement of the party house and chill. There were people down there, but they were in small crowds and the music was much softer. We sat on the empty couch and chatted a bit. When I say chatted, let me be clear: we had brief spurts of conversation with a lot of silence mixed in. I was literally floundering for conversation topics, and none were coming to mind. We sat like that for a while, just talking and observing.
Enter Chris, who plays such a cool/horrible part that I'm using his real name. Chris is dressed up as Abe Lincoln which, for some reason, was really important to me at the time. "You guys," he says, waving a finger back and forth between us drunkenly. "That's a thing, isn't it? Yeah. You guys are going to happen. I bet it's gonna happen tonight, isn't it?"
Just in case anyone isn't clear on this point, he means sex. Sex is going to happen tonight.
"Ah... no... um.." we both mumble, looking everywhere but at each other and Chris.
"Jenica," Chris says, "Do you have feelings for Bryan?"
I feel my face getting warm. "Um... [silence] no?"
"No, Jenica," Chris replies. "Look me in the face and tell me you don't have feelings for Bryan."
Oh dear sweet Jesus. Let's just stop and realize how horribly awkward this is, especially for me. I've been pushing myself to ask this guy out for what, eight weeks? And THIS, of all scenarios, is how Bryan finds out? THIS?? Oh, please no. And I'm high.
Essentially, this was that moment where I went, "Please, God, turn me into a puddle. Or vapor. Or anything else that can't answer that question. But, alas, I remained human, so I answered.
".... You really suck Chris." My face is bright red, and I'm staring at my lap.
Bryan and Chris both laugh. "Alright, I'll leave you two to figure that out, then. Oh yeah, this is happening," Chris grins. And then, to put the cherry on top of the awkward cake, Chris continues.
"Earmuffs, Jenica," he says.
"What?" I reply, not understanding how we went from this awkward shitfest to outerwear.
"Oh--" Chris replies, exasperated. He covers my ears with his hands. This does nothing to impede my ability to hear. "Do you need anything, Bryan? You know. Because I have stuff."
He means condoms, FYI.
"Oh, um... no," Bryan says. I'd describe his actions more, but I have no idea what they were. I cast nary a glance his direction during this whole affair. "That's okay."
"Oh, okay," Chris returns, removing his hands. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it, but you better come to some conclusions tonight." (This is paraphrased. I was so mortified I wasn't really listening closely.)
He leaves, making us the last two people in the room. Silence.
"So," I begin, "do you maybe... wanna go out sometime?" Because what the FUCK ELSE am I supposed to say at this point??
"Yeah, sure," he responds, like we were talking about the weather. I finally look over at him. He LOOKS like we were just talking about the weather. Screw him and his fucking poise.
"Really?" I say. "Um... do you want to go to Pera? It's Istanbul food."
"Is that like Greek food?" he asks. Affirmative. "I'd rather not."
"Oh." I think for a moment. "What about Noodles?"
"I love Noodles and Co." he responds.
"Cool. So... Noodles." I am so suave. They should use my lines in movies. Sarcasm.
"Can I tell you a secret?" I ask. "Only, it's not really a secret anymore, because you know about--yeah."
"Okay," he answers.
"I've kind of wanted to ask you out for, like, two months now," I mumble into my lap.
"Really?" he says. "You mean like since school started?"
"Well, it's been about ten weeks, so... yeah." My skirt has some frayed ends, I note.
Bryan laughs, and I look up to see him smiling openly at me. He scoots closer to me a few inches. Oh dear, my brain goes, he's coming in for a kiss. I think I'm too embarrassed for this right now. But... kissing Bryan.
I scoot a bit closer to him. And we kiss.
I don't want to get all porny about it. Well, I kind of do, because it's my first kiss with this boy I've liked for a while, and I've written fanfiction before so I KNOW WHAT'S UP. But... God forbid anyone I know ever finds this.
We kiss for what feels like seconds and hours. I pull away. "Wait... I don't want this going too fast, is that okay?"
"Yeah, sure!" he says. "But I'm not sure what you mean by 'too fast.'"
I realize that my brain was a few steps beyond my body's actions, and we'd really done nothing "fast" at all. I'm already shackled in humiliation, what's a few more comments gonna do?
"I just... I really like you, and I don't want this to be just another 'Jenica kisses boys when drunk' thing. I want more out of this than that."
Looking back, I am really proud of that. Not only did I confront my desires and communicate them effectively, but I also made it clear that I don't enjoy acting under an influence. Needless to say, I felt like a ginormous douche at the time.
"Okay," Bryan says. "That's totally fine with me."
What a guy, eh? I picked a winner.
"Okay... so... Noodles, then," I say. At this point, I'm trying to be a little funny, because I need a shred of comfort zone before I combust. "Let's... um, let's go back upstairs."
I collect my things and we walk up the stairs to the first floor. The door is closed, so I go to open it. It opens a few inches before hitting a body. Chris' body. He sees us and, grinning proudly, like he's doing something heroic, shuts the door. I try the door again-- he's leaning against it.
"Well," I sigh, facing Bryan. "This is awkward." Understatement of my life, but I'm past the point of noticing.
"Yeah," Bryan grins. "Um... try again?"
I do just that. Nope. So I pound on the door, loudly saying, "Chris, let us out! C'mon, Chris. We KISSED, OKAY? LET US OUT."
Suddenly the door swings open and Chris, looking for all the world like a presidential fairy godmother, beams down at us. We get onto the first floor.
"Listen," I say, "I need to find my camera." I haven't mentioned it so far, because it was irrelevant until this point, I'd put my camera down somewhere and lost it. Also, it gave me cover to find a spot to freak out with hormonal glee.
I'm not going to get into the events from this point on, because they are also irrelevant. Long story short, I found some of my friends, freaked out and told them everything, to much celebration (EVERYONE knew about my crush on Bryan. I'm open-book-y like that), and found my camera. Eventually I see Bryan and he says, "I think I'm going to head home now."
"Okay," I say. "See you... Tuesday, then." Even my good-byes are awkward. Please, someone, save me from my cesspool of ineptitude.
He leaves. I text to get a ride home, then continue to freak out. Honestly, I'm still freaked out a bit.
Fast forward to now. Yes, right now. I'm breaking the fourth wall of blogging, and you guys are IN THE MOMENT WITH ME.
I have a lot of concerns. I'm now totally outside my comfort zone with this guy. Should I text him first? Should I wait for him to text me? Should I just wait until Tuesday, when I see him in class? What if I've messed everything up? What should we talk about at Noodles & Co.? Is it totally horrible to prepare conversation starter note cards? Finally, what if I'm so wrapped up in my awkwardness and overanalysis that I botch the whole thing up? I am so good at shutting myself off from people that, when sober, I may totally shut down on Bryan. And he doesn't deserve it, especially after the amazing way he handled the ball of dismay and shyness that was me last night.
Oh, and what in the hell am I going to wear?
As many of you can tell by the posting date, I am writing this entry the Saturday before Halloween. If you are or have ever been a college student, you know what that means: parties. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
If you read "Socially Awkward Courting," you'll remember that this guy, Hans (not his real name), liked me, but I wasn't really aware that we were more than friends, and the whole thing blew up in my face. You'll also remember that I had a mondo-crush on this other boy, Bryan (again, not his real name), who was Hans' little. You can see that this is a... delicate situation. And I am a bull in a china shop. Oh well. (Actually, that's not a good analogy, because bulls just avoid the object. Mythbusters, man. Cracking down on the idioms.)
Alright, let's combine these two concepts: there was a Glee party last night, which both Bryan and I attended. We spent a lot of the night together, being awkward friends. We both smoke weed, so we ended up doing that a bit, too. Sorry, if I have any readers out there that take moral offense to my drug use. I'd combat that with, "It's a party! Underage drinking!"... but I don't care. You can accept my recreational pursuits or not, it's your choice.
So we were both high, watching all the drunk people act stupid. It's a pretty fun time, not gonna lie. But the loudness (both audibly and socially) got to me, so we decided to head down to the basement of the party house and chill. There were people down there, but they were in small crowds and the music was much softer. We sat on the empty couch and chatted a bit. When I say chatted, let me be clear: we had brief spurts of conversation with a lot of silence mixed in. I was literally floundering for conversation topics, and none were coming to mind. We sat like that for a while, just talking and observing.
Enter Chris, who plays such a cool/horrible part that I'm using his real name. Chris is dressed up as Abe Lincoln which, for some reason, was really important to me at the time. "You guys," he says, waving a finger back and forth between us drunkenly. "That's a thing, isn't it? Yeah. You guys are going to happen. I bet it's gonna happen tonight, isn't it?"
Just in case anyone isn't clear on this point, he means sex. Sex is going to happen tonight.
"Ah... no... um.." we both mumble, looking everywhere but at each other and Chris.
"Jenica," Chris says, "Do you have feelings for Bryan?"
I feel my face getting warm. "Um... [silence] no?"
"No, Jenica," Chris replies. "Look me in the face and tell me you don't have feelings for Bryan."
Oh dear sweet Jesus. Let's just stop and realize how horribly awkward this is, especially for me. I've been pushing myself to ask this guy out for what, eight weeks? And THIS, of all scenarios, is how Bryan finds out? THIS?? Oh, please no. And I'm high.
Essentially, this was that moment where I went, "Please, God, turn me into a puddle. Or vapor. Or anything else that can't answer that question. But, alas, I remained human, so I answered.
".... You really suck Chris." My face is bright red, and I'm staring at my lap.
Bryan and Chris both laugh. "Alright, I'll leave you two to figure that out, then. Oh yeah, this is happening," Chris grins. And then, to put the cherry on top of the awkward cake, Chris continues.
"Earmuffs, Jenica," he says.
"What?" I reply, not understanding how we went from this awkward shitfest to outerwear.
"Oh--" Chris replies, exasperated. He covers my ears with his hands. This does nothing to impede my ability to hear. "Do you need anything, Bryan? You know. Because I have stuff."
He means condoms, FYI.
"Oh, um... no," Bryan says. I'd describe his actions more, but I have no idea what they were. I cast nary a glance his direction during this whole affair. "That's okay."
"Oh, okay," Chris returns, removing his hands. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it, but you better come to some conclusions tonight." (This is paraphrased. I was so mortified I wasn't really listening closely.)
He leaves, making us the last two people in the room. Silence.
"So," I begin, "do you maybe... wanna go out sometime?" Because what the FUCK ELSE am I supposed to say at this point??
"Yeah, sure," he responds, like we were talking about the weather. I finally look over at him. He LOOKS like we were just talking about the weather. Screw him and his fucking poise.
"Really?" I say. "Um... do you want to go to Pera? It's Istanbul food."
"Is that like Greek food?" he asks. Affirmative. "I'd rather not."
"Oh." I think for a moment. "What about Noodles?"
"I love Noodles and Co." he responds.
"Cool. So... Noodles." I am so suave. They should use my lines in movies. Sarcasm.
"Can I tell you a secret?" I ask. "Only, it's not really a secret anymore, because you know about--yeah."
"Okay," he answers.
"I've kind of wanted to ask you out for, like, two months now," I mumble into my lap.
"Really?" he says. "You mean like since school started?"
"Well, it's been about ten weeks, so... yeah." My skirt has some frayed ends, I note.
Bryan laughs, and I look up to see him smiling openly at me. He scoots closer to me a few inches. Oh dear, my brain goes, he's coming in for a kiss. I think I'm too embarrassed for this right now. But... kissing Bryan.
I scoot a bit closer to him. And we kiss.
I don't want to get all porny about it. Well, I kind of do, because it's my first kiss with this boy I've liked for a while, and I've written fanfiction before so I KNOW WHAT'S UP. But... God forbid anyone I know ever finds this.
We kiss for what feels like seconds and hours. I pull away. "Wait... I don't want this going too fast, is that okay?"
"Yeah, sure!" he says. "But I'm not sure what you mean by 'too fast.'"
I realize that my brain was a few steps beyond my body's actions, and we'd really done nothing "fast" at all. I'm already shackled in humiliation, what's a few more comments gonna do?
"I just... I really like you, and I don't want this to be just another 'Jenica kisses boys when drunk' thing. I want more out of this than that."
Looking back, I am really proud of that. Not only did I confront my desires and communicate them effectively, but I also made it clear that I don't enjoy acting under an influence. Needless to say, I felt like a ginormous douche at the time.
"Okay," Bryan says. "That's totally fine with me."
What a guy, eh? I picked a winner.
"Okay... so... Noodles, then," I say. At this point, I'm trying to be a little funny, because I need a shred of comfort zone before I combust. "Let's... um, let's go back upstairs."
I collect my things and we walk up the stairs to the first floor. The door is closed, so I go to open it. It opens a few inches before hitting a body. Chris' body. He sees us and, grinning proudly, like he's doing something heroic, shuts the door. I try the door again-- he's leaning against it.
"Well," I sigh, facing Bryan. "This is awkward." Understatement of my life, but I'm past the point of noticing.
"Yeah," Bryan grins. "Um... try again?"
I do just that. Nope. So I pound on the door, loudly saying, "Chris, let us out! C'mon, Chris. We KISSED, OKAY? LET US OUT."
Suddenly the door swings open and Chris, looking for all the world like a presidential fairy godmother, beams down at us. We get onto the first floor.
"Listen," I say, "I need to find my camera." I haven't mentioned it so far, because it was irrelevant until this point, I'd put my camera down somewhere and lost it. Also, it gave me cover to find a spot to freak out with hormonal glee.
I'm not going to get into the events from this point on, because they are also irrelevant. Long story short, I found some of my friends, freaked out and told them everything, to much celebration (EVERYONE knew about my crush on Bryan. I'm open-book-y like that), and found my camera. Eventually I see Bryan and he says, "I think I'm going to head home now."
"Okay," I say. "See you... Tuesday, then." Even my good-byes are awkward. Please, someone, save me from my cesspool of ineptitude.
He leaves. I text to get a ride home, then continue to freak out. Honestly, I'm still freaked out a bit.
Fast forward to now. Yes, right now. I'm breaking the fourth wall of blogging, and you guys are IN THE MOMENT WITH ME.
I have a lot of concerns. I'm now totally outside my comfort zone with this guy. Should I text him first? Should I wait for him to text me? Should I just wait until Tuesday, when I see him in class? What if I've messed everything up? What should we talk about at Noodles & Co.? Is it totally horrible to prepare conversation starter note cards? Finally, what if I'm so wrapped up in my awkwardness and overanalysis that I botch the whole thing up? I am so good at shutting myself off from people that, when sober, I may totally shut down on Bryan. And he doesn't deserve it, especially after the amazing way he handled the ball of dismay and shyness that was me last night.
Oh, and what in the hell am I going to wear?
Friday, October 19, 2012
Socially Awkward Courting
Hey, all none of you. I'm in a pissy mood, and this is a pissy entry. Feel free to skip it.
"No," you say, "I'm emotionally invested in your livelihood, Jenica. Why are you pissy?"
Let me tell you.
It all started one day (I'm pretty sure it was a Wednesday) at the Ohio Union which is, for all none of you who don't know, the student center on OSU's campus. So I'm chilling, writing on my laptop, when my friend Wayland walks up to me and says, "Oh hey, Jenica! What are you doing? You should come to Glee Lunch with me!"
"Can I go?" I asked. "I'm not IN Glee."
"Oh, sure," he responds, "It's no big.
And so it began.
Glee Lunch was a lot of fun. I had a good time making friends and being funny because, believe it or not, I'm sociable. Again (if you've read my earlier posts), I'm great at being friendly. It's opening up that's my problem. So, making friends, yada yada. I'm invited to the Men's Glee party. Now, among the ranks of the musical, these parties are infamous. Put 100 of hormonal people into a house with tons of alcohol and just let the sordidness begin.
Glee party. I decide to dress up a bit, for once, so I put on some makeup and a dress. I look damn good, if I say so myself. So, I have a bit to drink (read: a bit TOO MUCH) and go converse. Now, typically, I like to give hugs when drunk. But this time, I said, "I should give KISSES instead! Those are just like hugs, but with your face!"
Yes. Facepalm.
I won't go into details, because I don't really remember them, but I ended up kissing six people that night. Understand that this quadruples my number of kissing partners in my ENTIRE LIFE. I'm NOT a slut, as people now like to joke. I'm just about the furthest thing from it. So, kissing. And one of those boys I kissed was named... well, let's call him... Hans. That's not his real name, because apparently you can rip someone apart as long as you don't name drop (we'll get to that in a few paragraphs).
Hans sat next to me at lunch a lot, and he's a really nice guy. He has a great laugh, one that you can hear across a room, and he has a witty sense of humor. But, I only ever saw him as a friend. Well, I don't think I need to tell you what happened, now. But I will anyway. Because I'm pissed, and this is MY BLOG, Goddammit. So Hans, one day, is helping me with my German homework (part of my râison d'alias, I'll have you know) and he says, "You know, I could tutor you in German, if you wanted."
Immediately, red warning lights go off in my head, but I give him the benefit of the doubt and say, "Sure!" I give him my number and we set up a [date/appointment/meeting/whateveryoucalltutortime]. At this point, because I'm a middle-schooler when it comes to anything romance-y, I go to a lot of my friends in Glee and say, "Hans offered to tutor me, but it sounds date-y."
A few days later, one of my friends comes up to me and tells me that Hans has been hinting that he has a ladyfriend and, though he wouldn't name-drop (no, this isn't the reference. Wait, young grasshopper.), the girl he described sounded awfully like me. They go on to warn me that Dan tends to fall for the wrong girls, and he gets very clingy about it. I should watch my step. Still, I think, I can't turn him down unless he makes a move, which he hasn't.
Nonetheless, I find a reason to cancel our date/appt./meeting. He's totally cool with it, which relieves me. A while later, he invites me to dinner. "Oh God, this is it," I think. "Confrontation time."
I text him back, "As a date, or as friends?" because that's about as confrontational I get and, to be honest, that does send a message. "Oh," he replies, "I wasn't really thinking in those terms. You just seemed like a cool gal, and I'd like to get to know you better."
Seems innocent enough. I agree to dinner.
So meanwhile, lest you think me a frigid bitch, I have this crush on a guy. I still do, as a matter of fact. I haven't gotten the nerve up to ask him out. Anyway, I've liked this guy for months. Before the Glee Party, before all of it. Let's call him... Bryan. Bryan and Hans are in the same section of Glee. In fact, Hans is Bryan's big (they have bigs and littles, like frats). While I'm relating to you this story, keep in mind that I like Bryan. A lot. I may make a separate blog entry about him.
I go to dinner with Hans. I have an amazing time, actually, and so does he. We talk about anything and everything, and I walk away going, "Wow, I've found a really amazing friend. I needn't have worried."
I need have worried. A couple days later, he texts me a question. Nothing too intimate, nor something trivial. I don't remember it now. I text him back, and we have a short conversation. A couple days later, he texts me again. And, later, again. After a week, I realize how over-my-head I've gotten. They're all innocuous, though, so I can't reject him outright, but he definitely has taken a keen interest in me. But, still, I internally plead, maybe he's just that friendly.
Now I'm aware that that's naïve of me. I knew it was naïve then, but I wanted things to work out. So I responded dutifully to his texts, even though it pained me to maintain an amiable demeanor when I knew that he read it as more.
Back to the story. He texts me just about every other day for a few weeks. Simple questions, friendly questions, etc. While I enjoyed the attention, I couldn't shake that sense of dread that accompanied each text: this was going to end badly.
We're going to fast forward to the end, now, because I'm tired, my pissed-off has worn off, and this story is long. Hans asks me to go to lunch one day and I realize, this is it. This is my opportunity to gently tell Hans that I'm not interested. So I respond, and I quote, "Um. I'm not so sure that's a great idea, actually. I'm kind of pursuing this guy I really like... and going out with someone else seems kind of horrible of me. I'm sorry."
To me, that text says many things. It says "I'm interested in someone that's not you" without being cruel. It says, "I'm not trying to lead you on, and I don't want anyone to get any wrong ideas." It also says that I'm not trying to be a horrible person. I am proud of this text. It is crafty and honest, without being mean.
"Ah. Alrighty." is his response. What does this mean? Is this an, "Oh, okay. No big deal, have fun with your manfriend," or is it, "Oh, that's how it is? I see."
This was yesterday.
Today was a Glee Lunch. Hans and I saw each other but we didn't speak. We sat at separate tables. That happens often, but I was a little over-cautious about it today. I really hate face-to-face confrontations.
Tonight, after a particularly shitty day, I receive a text, from Hans, that reads something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry if you overheard me today. I reacted out of hurt and, while I didn't name-drop, I acted callously and I'm sorry."
This is the reference. Because EVERYONE in Glee knows about Hans and his feelings for me. He didn't NEED to name-drop. He was a passive-aggressive jerk and he is covering his ass. I realize that now, but at the time I was confused. "Oh," I wrote back, "I didn't hear you. I am sorry, though. I tried my best NOT to be a bitch, but I might've failed a bit. :("
Now, for clarification, I know that I have not been a bitch. I've been nothing but nice to this guy, despite his creepy, interrogative behavior. I'm giving him an out, here, to say, "Oh, it's okay. Bygones, what have you."
These, sadly, were not his words. Instead, he laments that I've been sending him mixed signals and, when he really thought he had an in, I shot him down "like the Red Baron." He finishes this deplorably whiny text with, "I wouldn't say you were a bitch about it but... I dunno. Ow."
Despite my utter ire at this, I appreciated the Dune reference.
Back to the ire, UGHHHH. GRRRAAWWRRR AND OTHER ANGRY ONOMATOPOEIA WORDS. I gave you an OUT, Hans, and you not only didn't take it, you WHINED about it. I never sent you mixed signals. How could I do that when I was never attracted to you??? I was being FRIENDLY. FRIENDLY. How DARE you even consider me in the realm of bitchiness after the way I treated you.
When I questioned him about these mixed signals, he said, "I dunno. I felt like I was surveying you more than conversing with you." No. Duh. You texted me questions ALL THE TIME. It was CREEPY.
And here's the kicker, he tells me he "fell for me" when I kissed him. Drunk. Firstly, sweetheart, you are NOT in love with me. You don't know a lick about me. Don't give me "fell for" crap. Secondly, I was drunk. I don't like to blame things on alcohol, but it does apply in this case. My kisses were freely given that night, a fact I deeply regret. Bryan was at that party, and he hasn't let me forget what a slut I was. Anyway, you can't base a requited crush on a drunken kiss!
I'm ending the rant there. I know I wasn't at fault, just as I know he isn't really at fault. Hans is a really sweet person and, while I regret being friendly to him for so long, I don't regret getting to know him. He is one of those guys that goes on, under-appreciated, for years before someone good snatches him up. The lady that deserves his heart is a far better person than I. Hans is just awkward, and he wooed me the best he could. It didn't work, because I am devoted to the idea that one day I'll get up the courage to ask Bryan out, but he still tried. And I know this post is angry and hurtful, because he did hurt me and I was angry, but... that's life, isn't it? So I really do think this post belongs on this blog. Socially awkward boy meets socially awkward girl. Boy tries to woo girl, boy fails. Girl tries to spare boy, girl fails. Both parties feel horrible, and both will probably add this experience to the shell of awkward. And on the world turns.
"No," you say, "I'm emotionally invested in your livelihood, Jenica. Why are you pissy?"
Let me tell you.
It all started one day (I'm pretty sure it was a Wednesday) at the Ohio Union which is, for all none of you who don't know, the student center on OSU's campus. So I'm chilling, writing on my laptop, when my friend Wayland walks up to me and says, "Oh hey, Jenica! What are you doing? You should come to Glee Lunch with me!"
"Can I go?" I asked. "I'm not IN Glee."
"Oh, sure," he responds, "It's no big.
And so it began.
Glee Lunch was a lot of fun. I had a good time making friends and being funny because, believe it or not, I'm sociable. Again (if you've read my earlier posts), I'm great at being friendly. It's opening up that's my problem. So, making friends, yada yada. I'm invited to the Men's Glee party. Now, among the ranks of the musical, these parties are infamous. Put 100 of hormonal people into a house with tons of alcohol and just let the sordidness begin.
Glee party. I decide to dress up a bit, for once, so I put on some makeup and a dress. I look damn good, if I say so myself. So, I have a bit to drink (read: a bit TOO MUCH) and go converse. Now, typically, I like to give hugs when drunk. But this time, I said, "I should give KISSES instead! Those are just like hugs, but with your face!"
Yes. Facepalm.
I won't go into details, because I don't really remember them, but I ended up kissing six people that night. Understand that this quadruples my number of kissing partners in my ENTIRE LIFE. I'm NOT a slut, as people now like to joke. I'm just about the furthest thing from it. So, kissing. And one of those boys I kissed was named... well, let's call him... Hans. That's not his real name, because apparently you can rip someone apart as long as you don't name drop (we'll get to that in a few paragraphs).
Hans sat next to me at lunch a lot, and he's a really nice guy. He has a great laugh, one that you can hear across a room, and he has a witty sense of humor. But, I only ever saw him as a friend. Well, I don't think I need to tell you what happened, now. But I will anyway. Because I'm pissed, and this is MY BLOG, Goddammit. So Hans, one day, is helping me with my German homework (part of my râison d'alias, I'll have you know) and he says, "You know, I could tutor you in German, if you wanted."
Immediately, red warning lights go off in my head, but I give him the benefit of the doubt and say, "Sure!" I give him my number and we set up a [date/appointment/meeting/whateveryoucalltutortime]. At this point, because I'm a middle-schooler when it comes to anything romance-y, I go to a lot of my friends in Glee and say, "Hans offered to tutor me, but it sounds date-y."
A few days later, one of my friends comes up to me and tells me that Hans has been hinting that he has a ladyfriend and, though he wouldn't name-drop (no, this isn't the reference. Wait, young grasshopper.), the girl he described sounded awfully like me. They go on to warn me that Dan tends to fall for the wrong girls, and he gets very clingy about it. I should watch my step. Still, I think, I can't turn him down unless he makes a move, which he hasn't.
Nonetheless, I find a reason to cancel our date/appt./meeting. He's totally cool with it, which relieves me. A while later, he invites me to dinner. "Oh God, this is it," I think. "Confrontation time."
I text him back, "As a date, or as friends?" because that's about as confrontational I get and, to be honest, that does send a message. "Oh," he replies, "I wasn't really thinking in those terms. You just seemed like a cool gal, and I'd like to get to know you better."
Seems innocent enough. I agree to dinner.
So meanwhile, lest you think me a frigid bitch, I have this crush on a guy. I still do, as a matter of fact. I haven't gotten the nerve up to ask him out. Anyway, I've liked this guy for months. Before the Glee Party, before all of it. Let's call him... Bryan. Bryan and Hans are in the same section of Glee. In fact, Hans is Bryan's big (they have bigs and littles, like frats). While I'm relating to you this story, keep in mind that I like Bryan. A lot. I may make a separate blog entry about him.
I go to dinner with Hans. I have an amazing time, actually, and so does he. We talk about anything and everything, and I walk away going, "Wow, I've found a really amazing friend. I needn't have worried."
I need have worried. A couple days later, he texts me a question. Nothing too intimate, nor something trivial. I don't remember it now. I text him back, and we have a short conversation. A couple days later, he texts me again. And, later, again. After a week, I realize how over-my-head I've gotten. They're all innocuous, though, so I can't reject him outright, but he definitely has taken a keen interest in me. But, still, I internally plead, maybe he's just that friendly.
Now I'm aware that that's naïve of me. I knew it was naïve then, but I wanted things to work out. So I responded dutifully to his texts, even though it pained me to maintain an amiable demeanor when I knew that he read it as more.
Back to the story. He texts me just about every other day for a few weeks. Simple questions, friendly questions, etc. While I enjoyed the attention, I couldn't shake that sense of dread that accompanied each text: this was going to end badly.
We're going to fast forward to the end, now, because I'm tired, my pissed-off has worn off, and this story is long. Hans asks me to go to lunch one day and I realize, this is it. This is my opportunity to gently tell Hans that I'm not interested. So I respond, and I quote, "Um. I'm not so sure that's a great idea, actually. I'm kind of pursuing this guy I really like... and going out with someone else seems kind of horrible of me. I'm sorry."
To me, that text says many things. It says "I'm interested in someone that's not you" without being cruel. It says, "I'm not trying to lead you on, and I don't want anyone to get any wrong ideas." It also says that I'm not trying to be a horrible person. I am proud of this text. It is crafty and honest, without being mean.
"Ah. Alrighty." is his response. What does this mean? Is this an, "Oh, okay. No big deal, have fun with your manfriend," or is it, "Oh, that's how it is? I see."
This was yesterday.
Today was a Glee Lunch. Hans and I saw each other but we didn't speak. We sat at separate tables. That happens often, but I was a little over-cautious about it today. I really hate face-to-face confrontations.
Tonight, after a particularly shitty day, I receive a text, from Hans, that reads something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry if you overheard me today. I reacted out of hurt and, while I didn't name-drop, I acted callously and I'm sorry."
This is the reference. Because EVERYONE in Glee knows about Hans and his feelings for me. He didn't NEED to name-drop. He was a passive-aggressive jerk and he is covering his ass. I realize that now, but at the time I was confused. "Oh," I wrote back, "I didn't hear you. I am sorry, though. I tried my best NOT to be a bitch, but I might've failed a bit. :("
Now, for clarification, I know that I have not been a bitch. I've been nothing but nice to this guy, despite his creepy, interrogative behavior. I'm giving him an out, here, to say, "Oh, it's okay. Bygones, what have you."
These, sadly, were not his words. Instead, he laments that I've been sending him mixed signals and, when he really thought he had an in, I shot him down "like the Red Baron." He finishes this deplorably whiny text with, "I wouldn't say you were a bitch about it but... I dunno. Ow."
Despite my utter ire at this, I appreciated the Dune reference.
Back to the ire, UGHHHH. GRRRAAWWRRR AND OTHER ANGRY ONOMATOPOEIA WORDS. I gave you an OUT, Hans, and you not only didn't take it, you WHINED about it. I never sent you mixed signals. How could I do that when I was never attracted to you??? I was being FRIENDLY. FRIENDLY. How DARE you even consider me in the realm of bitchiness after the way I treated you.
When I questioned him about these mixed signals, he said, "I dunno. I felt like I was surveying you more than conversing with you." No. Duh. You texted me questions ALL THE TIME. It was CREEPY.
And here's the kicker, he tells me he "fell for me" when I kissed him. Drunk. Firstly, sweetheart, you are NOT in love with me. You don't know a lick about me. Don't give me "fell for" crap. Secondly, I was drunk. I don't like to blame things on alcohol, but it does apply in this case. My kisses were freely given that night, a fact I deeply regret. Bryan was at that party, and he hasn't let me forget what a slut I was. Anyway, you can't base a requited crush on a drunken kiss!
I'm ending the rant there. I know I wasn't at fault, just as I know he isn't really at fault. Hans is a really sweet person and, while I regret being friendly to him for so long, I don't regret getting to know him. He is one of those guys that goes on, under-appreciated, for years before someone good snatches him up. The lady that deserves his heart is a far better person than I. Hans is just awkward, and he wooed me the best he could. It didn't work, because I am devoted to the idea that one day I'll get up the courage to ask Bryan out, but he still tried. And I know this post is angry and hurtful, because he did hurt me and I was angry, but... that's life, isn't it? So I really do think this post belongs on this blog. Socially awkward boy meets socially awkward girl. Boy tries to woo girl, boy fails. Girl tries to spare boy, girl fails. Both parties feel horrible, and both will probably add this experience to the shell of awkward. And on the world turns.
Friday, October 5, 2012
You Get To Vote Early! ... For My Story...
Hey, everyone. If you've come here from Facebook, congratulations: you win the "Cool Friend" award. Wear this badge with honor. If you leave your name with your comment, I'll remember it and go, "Hey, that person's a good friend." So there's that.
So this is essentially a dream I had about a week ago that I loved so much that I want to write it. Can you say, "Stephenie Meyer?" But really, I love this story and I want to spend some time hashing out specific details and subplots and such. The synopsis I'm posting here is super-brief. I've already added a few character quirks, but this is pretty skeleton-y. Here goes!
THE UNTITLED, AWESOME-TIME-FRIENDS STORY
Two friends, one tall and thin (let's call him Ned), one short and stocky (and he's Ted), are afraid of everything. Ted is scared of heights, Ned is scared of depths. Ned hates birds, Ted, fish. The men realize that these fears are destroying their lives. Ned lives in a loveless marriage with a controlling, cruel woman. Ted is eternally single. They both work in menial, unsatisfying positions in a large corporation, and both are abused by their bosses. The have done absolutely nothing with their lives, and it's killing them slowly.
Their decision: to leave everything and go on an around-the-world trip to face and conquer their fears. They climb Mount Everest, they go spelunking in underwater caverns, they go parachuting, et cetera. Day by day, adventure by adventure, they overcome every fear. Finally, after all their experiences, the return home as confident, self-actualized men. Ned divorces his domineering wife. Ted lands a date with the love of his life. They quit their jobs and start a tremendously successful business together. And they are simply the BEST of friends.
Ta-da! Like I said, it's a bit bare-boned, but I will continue to work on it. So here is my question for you:
Would this story work best as...?
a) A Pixar-style movie
b) A story in a storybook
c) A more adult, live-action movie
Keep in mind that, if I were to write options a) or b), I would tone down the more adult themes and make it more appropriate for kids. Conversely, I would ramp up the grimness a little and make the details a bit more complicated if you select option c).
Cast your votes in the comments! Thank you, guys! :)
So this is essentially a dream I had about a week ago that I loved so much that I want to write it. Can you say, "Stephenie Meyer?" But really, I love this story and I want to spend some time hashing out specific details and subplots and such. The synopsis I'm posting here is super-brief. I've already added a few character quirks, but this is pretty skeleton-y. Here goes!
THE UNTITLED, AWESOME-TIME-FRIENDS STORY
Two friends, one tall and thin (let's call him Ned), one short and stocky (and he's Ted), are afraid of everything. Ted is scared of heights, Ned is scared of depths. Ned hates birds, Ted, fish. The men realize that these fears are destroying their lives. Ned lives in a loveless marriage with a controlling, cruel woman. Ted is eternally single. They both work in menial, unsatisfying positions in a large corporation, and both are abused by their bosses. The have done absolutely nothing with their lives, and it's killing them slowly.
Their decision: to leave everything and go on an around-the-world trip to face and conquer their fears. They climb Mount Everest, they go spelunking in underwater caverns, they go parachuting, et cetera. Day by day, adventure by adventure, they overcome every fear. Finally, after all their experiences, the return home as confident, self-actualized men. Ned divorces his domineering wife. Ted lands a date with the love of his life. They quit their jobs and start a tremendously successful business together. And they are simply the BEST of friends.
Ta-da! Like I said, it's a bit bare-boned, but I will continue to work on it. So here is my question for you:
Would this story work best as...?
a) A Pixar-style movie
b) A story in a storybook
c) A more adult, live-action movie
Keep in mind that, if I were to write options a) or b), I would tone down the more adult themes and make it more appropriate for kids. Conversely, I would ramp up the grimness a little and make the details a bit more complicated if you select option c).
Cast your votes in the comments! Thank you, guys! :)
Saturday, August 4, 2012
If Scarlet Fever Were Composed of Scifi Characters - Part 2
Continuing with the Firefly trend...
Tyler Higgins - Wash
AQD: Wash is the pilot of Serenity and, because he's a laid-back and peaceful kind of guy, he's often overlooked when it comes to the Firefly's business. He would rather talk than fight, and that separates him from the continually rambunctious crew. He provides a voice of reason, however, and he often comes up with clever ways to get out of annoying situations. As the husband of Zoe, Wash constantly feels emasculated and yearns to be manlier but, as the show progresses, we discover what a brave and awe-inspiring man Wash truly is. We realize that, just as Wash is lucky for having a powerful and gorgeous wife, Zoe is lucky for having a determined and compassionate husband.
Comparison: Tyler's not married to Yvette, I get that. But I feel like Tyler has that same love in him. Whoever snags his heart will find a great source of support and devotion. Tyler's also a pretty reasonable, quiet guy, and he can sometimes be... overlooked... in rambunctious crowd meetings. But when you pay attention, you notice that Tyler is quirky, funny, loyal, and strong. I foresee Tyler doing great things in the future.
Lindsay Long - Kaylee
AQD: Kaylee's the ship engineer and, like Wash, she's not one for the violent and chaotic behavior of the rest of the crew. She's an incredibly sweet girl, but she's got more than enough backbone to stand her ground when she's offended or upset. One of the only female engineers ever to appear in the scifi world, Kaylee has an incredibly unique skill set, and she's stunningly good at it. She can walk you through the inner core of a spaceship with the patience and ease of a kindergarten teacher, but she never makes you feel foolish for knowing anything less than she does. She is a diehard optimist that's in love with being girly, but also totally comfortable being a grease-ridden crewman.
Comparison: Lindsay seems, at first, a sweet girl who can hit high notes and who wears lots of sparkly things. I'm not gonna lie, I get distracted by the sparkles quite often. She adores being girly and we love her for it. Hell, someone has to be, am I right? But Lindsay's cool, too; she'll play Pong and crack jokes with the rest of us. And fuck is she good at Pong. Even when she's top dog, though, Lindsay never makes you feel like less of a player, and she always encourages people to try harder.
Natalie Woods - River
AQD: Wow. This one'll be hard. River Tam is... probably the most unique person on the entire show. She's insanely intelligent, in fact I think her IQ is supposed to be somewhere in the 200s. River is so amazingly intelligent that she performs acts of "magic," like telling the future, simply by calculating the various probabilities involved in the scenario. But she's damaged. She went to this amazing school in which they're supposed to offer specialized curricula for brilliant children, but they actually treated her like a lab rat and literally messed around in her brain. She escaped by sending coded letters to her brother, Simon (he's also onboard), who used his status as doctor to sneak in and steal her away. He hid her in a crate, sedated, until he came aboard Serenity and the crew discovered her. So, that's her history. Told you this one would be hard. River, personality-wise, is a child. As everyone who knows someone smart knows, intelligence comes at a price. Many gifted children today are ADD, but many of them are autistic in some way. Although she knows more than everyone everywhere, River suffers from a combination of autism (not bad autism, though. It's more like a total lack of a filter combined with a child's morbid love of outlandishness) and fear of everything. She can't begin to process how horribly she was treated, and she often forgets that she left that "school."
River's also scary. She can tell you facts about yourself with absolute certainty. Oh, and she's a bit of a killing machine. Part of the treatment she got at the "school" involved making her deadly with just about any implement, but they hid it under "sleeper" style brainwashing. She's the most badass chick in the galaxy, and she's also the most innocent. She knows everything and nothing all at once. She's an enigma, but her life is an open book.
Comparison: Alright. This one's abstract as hell, especially because I did a shit job of explaining the character... but here goes. Like River, Natalie's this tiny little person and you think, "Well, she's harmless," but you're so, so wrong. Natalie is fierce and matter-of-fact about her opinions, and she won't hesitate to take you down a couple pegs when she feels it's necessary. Now Natalie and I aren't that close, so I'm sorry if I totally get this wrong... but I feel like there's a lot to Natalie that no one sees. While she's open about herself, she's also hiding a lot, and she's very good at it. You often know exactly how Natalie will act, but ask yourself, do you know why she acts that way? I'm not trying to pry into Natalie's life, here, but I do firmly believe that there's a lot more to Natalie than meets the eye.
Tyler Higgins - Wash
Comparison: Tyler's not married to Yvette, I get that. But I feel like Tyler has that same love in him. Whoever snags his heart will find a great source of support and devotion. Tyler's also a pretty reasonable, quiet guy, and he can sometimes be... overlooked... in rambunctious crowd meetings. But when you pay attention, you notice that Tyler is quirky, funny, loyal, and strong. I foresee Tyler doing great things in the future.
Lindsay Long - Kaylee
Comparison: Lindsay seems, at first, a sweet girl who can hit high notes and who wears lots of sparkly things. I'm not gonna lie, I get distracted by the sparkles quite often. She adores being girly and we love her for it. Hell, someone has to be, am I right? But Lindsay's cool, too; she'll play Pong and crack jokes with the rest of us. And fuck is she good at Pong. Even when she's top dog, though, Lindsay never makes you feel like less of a player, and she always encourages people to try harder.
Natalie Woods - River
River's also scary. She can tell you facts about yourself with absolute certainty. Oh, and she's a bit of a killing machine. Part of the treatment she got at the "school" involved making her deadly with just about any implement, but they hid it under "sleeper" style brainwashing. She's the most badass chick in the galaxy, and she's also the most innocent. She knows everything and nothing all at once. She's an enigma, but her life is an open book.
Comparison: Alright. This one's abstract as hell, especially because I did a shit job of explaining the character... but here goes. Like River, Natalie's this tiny little person and you think, "Well, she's harmless," but you're so, so wrong. Natalie is fierce and matter-of-fact about her opinions, and she won't hesitate to take you down a couple pegs when she feels it's necessary. Now Natalie and I aren't that close, so I'm sorry if I totally get this wrong... but I feel like there's a lot to Natalie that no one sees. While she's open about herself, she's also hiding a lot, and she's very good at it. You often know exactly how Natalie will act, but ask yourself, do you know why she acts that way? I'm not trying to pry into Natalie's life, here, but I do firmly believe that there's a lot more to Natalie than meets the eye.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
If Scarlet Fever Were Composed of SciFi Characters-- Part ONE
Alright. No one get too offended-- everything is meant with love and positive energies. All of these characters are from Joss Whedon's TV show Firefly.
Alan George - Jayne Cobb
A Quick Debriefing (AQD): Jayne Cobb is one of the veteran members onboard Serenity. Serenity is a spaceship in which the crew conduct illegal trade and general badassery. "Veteran" means that he's a crewman from the start of the show that's been working with the crew for a while. He's also my favorite character in Firefly. Anyway, Jayne's the "bad cop" in almost every scenario: he's intimidating and callous, the perfect combination for scaring someone into backing the hell off of his shit. That said, he softens up as the show progresses and we (viewers) realize that he's a huge teddy bear that keeps his trust and emotions under tight lock and key.
Comparison: Alan's a badass. He fucking swats bees out of the air and crushes them with his almighty fists of power. Bees, people. Jayne was the natural choice simply for that reason, but there's more. Alan's a teddy bear, too. Like Jayne, he tends to hide his teddy-beared-ness under a façade, but we at Scarlet Fever have come to appreciate the awesome, badass sweetheart that lays underneath that persona. Also, Alan would totally rock Jayne's hat.
Yvette Purser - Zoe Washburne
AQD: Zoe's first mate onboard Serenity. She is a veteran both in the literal and contextual sense. She served with the captain, Mal Reynolds, in the war against the Alliance, a sort of futuristic dictatorship. Watch the show to know more. Anyway. Though all of the female characters are strong, Zoe's strength defines her in a graceful yet powerful way. She is an incredibly down-to-earth, pragmatic character, and her quiet authority often makes her the most respected crewman on Serenity.
Comparison: They both have epic hair. :)
Yvette is also a quiet person, though her personality spills out of her like a tidal wave. She offers a patience and tolerance that is incredibly rare in SF's often chaotic rehearsals. Her laid-back approach to the group is like a balm to soothe our crazy, and we love her for it. Yvette, however, is not all cool cucumber. As a fashion design major, Yvette must work diligently and continuously. She works hard not only in her studies, but also in her extra-curriculars. Yvette is dedicated to her dream and she has both the ambition and ability to see that dream flower to reality. I think I speak for everyone when I say that her work ethic, both in and out of the rehearsal space, is inspiring.
Ryan Jenkins - Mal Reynolds
AQD: Mal is the captain of Serenity, as he will tell everyone who looks momentarily uncertain of the fact... or anything. Serenity is his pride and joy, and being captain of such a fine vessel is both a privilege and a responsibility. Mal is a funny character. He runs a tight ship, but he's a brilliantly cool guy as long as everyone is on task and remembers he's the captain. He's a kind-hearted individual that was forced to be violent in the war, and that's left obvious scars. He, like Jayne, operates close to the heart, though he cares strongly for those he lets in. He is merciful to a fault, but betray him once and you may not see tomorrow. After all, he's the captain.
Comparison: Ryan is the broskiest bro is brodom. He has male siblings across America questioning their validity of broness. In fact, he is so bro, he can sing a beautiful, nostalgic love song and play piano at the SAME TIME, and still be bro. But we all know Ryan. He's amazing in his adorable-ness. Anyone who has seen him interact with Erica (I may do an Erica one, as well), his girlfriend, has seen how sweet he is. That's not to infringe on his masculinity, though. Don't forget, Ryan is a spectacular specimen of brohood.
Alan George - Jayne Cobb
A Quick Debriefing (AQD): Jayne Cobb is one of the veteran members onboard Serenity. Serenity is a spaceship in which the crew conduct illegal trade and general badassery. "Veteran" means that he's a crewman from the start of the show that's been working with the crew for a while. He's also my favorite character in Firefly. Anyway, Jayne's the "bad cop" in almost every scenario: he's intimidating and callous, the perfect combination for scaring someone into backing the hell off of his shit. That said, he softens up as the show progresses and we (viewers) realize that he's a huge teddy bear that keeps his trust and emotions under tight lock and key.
Comparison: Alan's a badass. He fucking swats bees out of the air and crushes them with his almighty fists of power. Bees, people. Jayne was the natural choice simply for that reason, but there's more. Alan's a teddy bear, too. Like Jayne, he tends to hide his teddy-beared-ness under a façade, but we at Scarlet Fever have come to appreciate the awesome, badass sweetheart that lays underneath that persona. Also, Alan would totally rock Jayne's hat.
Yvette Purser - Zoe Washburne
AQD: Zoe's first mate onboard Serenity. She is a veteran both in the literal and contextual sense. She served with the captain, Mal Reynolds, in the war against the Alliance, a sort of futuristic dictatorship. Watch the show to know more. Anyway. Though all of the female characters are strong, Zoe's strength defines her in a graceful yet powerful way. She is an incredibly down-to-earth, pragmatic character, and her quiet authority often makes her the most respected crewman on Serenity.
Comparison: They both have epic hair. :)
Yvette is also a quiet person, though her personality spills out of her like a tidal wave. She offers a patience and tolerance that is incredibly rare in SF's often chaotic rehearsals. Her laid-back approach to the group is like a balm to soothe our crazy, and we love her for it. Yvette, however, is not all cool cucumber. As a fashion design major, Yvette must work diligently and continuously. She works hard not only in her studies, but also in her extra-curriculars. Yvette is dedicated to her dream and she has both the ambition and ability to see that dream flower to reality. I think I speak for everyone when I say that her work ethic, both in and out of the rehearsal space, is inspiring.
Ryan Jenkins - Mal Reynolds
AQD: Mal is the captain of Serenity, as he will tell everyone who looks momentarily uncertain of the fact... or anything. Serenity is his pride and joy, and being captain of such a fine vessel is both a privilege and a responsibility. Mal is a funny character. He runs a tight ship, but he's a brilliantly cool guy as long as everyone is on task and remembers he's the captain. He's a kind-hearted individual that was forced to be violent in the war, and that's left obvious scars. He, like Jayne, operates close to the heart, though he cares strongly for those he lets in. He is merciful to a fault, but betray him once and you may not see tomorrow. After all, he's the captain.
Comparison: Ryan is the broskiest bro is brodom. He has male siblings across America questioning their validity of broness. In fact, he is so bro, he can sing a beautiful, nostalgic love song and play piano at the SAME TIME, and still be bro. But we all know Ryan. He's amazing in his adorable-ness. Anyone who has seen him interact with Erica (I may do an Erica one, as well), his girlfriend, has seen how sweet he is. That's not to infringe on his masculinity, though. Don't forget, Ryan is a spectacular specimen of brohood.
If Scarlet Fever Were Composed of Science Fiction Characters--- Prologue
Most disappointing post ever, I know. Sorry.
So, because I may have someone eventually read this who DOESN'T know Scarlet Fever: we're one of several A Capella groups at The Ohio State University. More importantly, we're a band of renegade besties with a kickass group name. The singing is cool, too. :)
Everyone (Yes, YOU ANONYMOUS READER THAT MAY BE IMAGINARY) knows I'm a science fiction geek. I live and breathe the stuff. So when my good friend Julie started making lists about Scarlet Fever members as [insert noun], I said, "I'MMA DO A SCIFI CHARACTERS ONE!"
Side note: Tonight is a night of all caps. You may have noticed. I'm feeling especially spaz-tastic. I flirted successfully for the first time in months... okay, two years. Shut up. Be happy for me. /endsidenote
Anyway, I'm sorry SF members that are learning WAY TOO MUCH about me, I wanted to preface my SciFi musings with some context.
I'm only using three fandoms, both for ease of layman knowledge and because the SciFi world is just too big. Those three fandoms are: Doctor Who, Star Trek, and Firefly. As the average nerd will note, these are three popular TV programs. I apologize to Alex in advance about the Doctor Who spoilers. I shall try to keep my analyses completely plotless, so I won't be ruining much.
So... read on :)
So, because I may have someone eventually read this who DOESN'T know Scarlet Fever: we're one of several A Capella groups at The Ohio State University. More importantly, we're a band of renegade besties with a kickass group name. The singing is cool, too. :)
Everyone (Yes, YOU ANONYMOUS READER THAT MAY BE IMAGINARY) knows I'm a science fiction geek. I live and breathe the stuff. So when my good friend Julie started making lists about Scarlet Fever members as [insert noun], I said, "I'MMA DO A SCIFI CHARACTERS ONE!"
Side note: Tonight is a night of all caps. You may have noticed. I'm feeling especially spaz-tastic. I flirted successfully for the first time in months... okay, two years. Shut up. Be happy for me. /endsidenote
Anyway, I'm sorry SF members that are learning WAY TOO MUCH about me, I wanted to preface my SciFi musings with some context.
I'm only using three fandoms, both for ease of layman knowledge and because the SciFi world is just too big. Those three fandoms are: Doctor Who, Star Trek, and Firefly. As the average nerd will note, these are three popular TV programs. I apologize to Alex in advance about the Doctor Who spoilers. I shall try to keep my analyses completely plotless, so I won't be ruining much.
So... read on :)
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Greetings!
So, honestly, I've wanted to blog for a long time. Usually I just post some ultra-long status in Facebook (which no one reads) and hope that it will sate my desire for words. Alas, I have reached the point where statuses (statii?) just don't cut it: I've made a blog. This blog, as those of you with keen intellect might have already realized. So welcome! This blog may/will include: rambling, lists of varying nonsense, pictures that I like/strongly dislike, references to people to may not know, fangirl-esque musings, and rants about sociopoliticalism. That's not a word, but who cares?
Now the title of this blog seems, honestly, awkward. Why would you revel in ineptitude? Well, I've spent my entire life being a socially awkward girl (I may get around to writing the stories about my childhood and its impact on my personality... someday) and for most of my life I've hated it. I mean, really hated it, to the point of forced seclusion. In high school, I would sit in class and write "Don't speak. Don't speak," in the margins of my notes so hard that I'd rip the paper. Feel free to psychoanalyze me, I'd love to hear your findings. Anyway, back to the point, it took me a long long LONG time to accept that, no matter how hard I try, I'm just socially awkward. But, as I came to terms with myself, I realized that a LOT of people were socially awkward in some way or another. Some people stay quiet. Some people talk continuously. Some people say weird shit at inappropriate moments and embarrass everyone. Still more people ostracize others and themselves because they can't function well in a conversational environment. I'm all of the above, but that's okay. It's okay because I embrace that social awkwardness and I make it my own. I find ways to maneuver through conversations that downplay (read: NOT hide, nor mask) my awkwardness, or highlight it in a comical way.
You may be sitting there, reading this blog, saying, "Well, yeah, but that means you're overcoming the social awkwardness. You're not awkward, you're just... quirky, or something." Yes, I'm quirky. Everyone in my life knows I'm quirky. But that doesn't really cover it. I can't talk to guys I like (when I do, it's just... horrible. I always feel like hitting myself afterward), I plan conversation starters in advance, and I replay conflicts (and interject that perfect line I couldn't come up with DURING the conflict) all the time. In fact, I know I'll be laying in bed tonight, thinking about this blog post and what I should have changed. That's okay. The important part is that, though I may be damaged in some deep psychological way that Freud himself would find troubling, I revel in my differences and my ineptitude because they make me human. They make all of us human.
So, welcome to Socially Awkward Revelry. Leave your inhibitions and coolness at the door, and enjoy the show!
Now the title of this blog seems, honestly, awkward. Why would you revel in ineptitude? Well, I've spent my entire life being a socially awkward girl (I may get around to writing the stories about my childhood and its impact on my personality... someday) and for most of my life I've hated it. I mean, really hated it, to the point of forced seclusion. In high school, I would sit in class and write "Don't speak. Don't speak," in the margins of my notes so hard that I'd rip the paper. Feel free to psychoanalyze me, I'd love to hear your findings. Anyway, back to the point, it took me a long long LONG time to accept that, no matter how hard I try, I'm just socially awkward. But, as I came to terms with myself, I realized that a LOT of people were socially awkward in some way or another. Some people stay quiet. Some people talk continuously. Some people say weird shit at inappropriate moments and embarrass everyone. Still more people ostracize others and themselves because they can't function well in a conversational environment. I'm all of the above, but that's okay. It's okay because I embrace that social awkwardness and I make it my own. I find ways to maneuver through conversations that downplay (read: NOT hide, nor mask) my awkwardness, or highlight it in a comical way.
You may be sitting there, reading this blog, saying, "Well, yeah, but that means you're overcoming the social awkwardness. You're not awkward, you're just... quirky, or something." Yes, I'm quirky. Everyone in my life knows I'm quirky. But that doesn't really cover it. I can't talk to guys I like (when I do, it's just... horrible. I always feel like hitting myself afterward), I plan conversation starters in advance, and I replay conflicts (and interject that perfect line I couldn't come up with DURING the conflict) all the time. In fact, I know I'll be laying in bed tonight, thinking about this blog post and what I should have changed. That's okay. The important part is that, though I may be damaged in some deep psychological way that Freud himself would find troubling, I revel in my differences and my ineptitude because they make me human. They make all of us human.
So, welcome to Socially Awkward Revelry. Leave your inhibitions and coolness at the door, and enjoy the show!
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