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:

 "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."

 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.

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.

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. :(

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?

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.

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! :)