I’ve changed blogs. Yes, I got tired of the blog I had, so I decided to move into a different one.
But don’t worry. It’s actually not too far. Just go here if you want the latest dish of yammers. I’ve transferred all of my previous blog posts there (cue the technical difficulties), so you won’t need to freak out when I delete this blog in the next couple of weeks. I hope this finds you all well, and I hope you can find my new blog.
So, according to certain sources, I’m attractive. And I mean attractive enough that guys don’t mind dating me. What? Me being vain? Well, in all honesty, no. You know how your parents tell everyone that you are the most beautiful human to have ever been birthed into this violent world? And then you find out that it’s like their contractual obligation to do so? That doesn’t mean you aren’t good-looking, it just means that you start to seek other people’s opinions.
Friends don’t count though. They always think that the sun is shining out your wazoo. Like they signed the same contract as your Mumsy.
But how did I find out for myself? Well, it started with an emo fellow who I didn’t know was emo, but we’ll skip that story because he’s just a bum to think about. No, I actually think of a guy I’ll call the Piano Man.
So Piano Man is the sort of guy I think every girl would want to have. He’s good-looking, funny, smart, athletic, hates scary movies, loves to go camping and stargazing, and I think I could go on about him. Needless to say I was crushing on him. But I was too chicken to say anything about it.
And what made matters more frustrating was that I saw couples everywhere. Holding hands, hugging, kissing… just that kind of PDA that makes you think, “Aw, they’re so cute and such a big reminder of how alone I am.” It got to the point where I was actually complaining to some of my friends about how I really needed a guy. And like good friends, they told me, “Then go and find one. And stop complaining, you sound like a cat lady.”
So, the goal was to ask a guy out. There are plenty of good-looking guys around, but the trick is trying to find one that could stand up to the high expectations I set. Author’s note: It is perfectly fine to set expectations and find men falling short. It doesn’t mean your picky, it just means that they’re not good enough.
That’s when I started thinking about Piano Man. I wondered, Wouldn’t it be great if I asked him out and he said yes? So I decided to ask him.
The hard part was actually doing that.
I told some of my friends about my decision so they would feel proud that I actually had guts to do it. And so they would actually kick my rear into gear to actually do it. Why? Oh, just because I’m a sissy. I say that I’ll do something, and then I’ll distract myself from it so I won’t be so freakin’ nervous about it. Piano Man was no exception.
One day, though, there was a group activity we both happened to be at. He was about to leave though. At that moment, I told myself that I would either ask now, or forget ever thinking about him. Because stressing myself out seems to make things happen. But this time, it actually worked.
It’s all sort of a blur, but I think I said something to the effect of, “This weekend. Spend time. With me.” (Think of a Neanderthal with boobs. That’s how I sounded. Probably.) But I do remember his answer.
“Yes.”
Oh, and I acted like an idiot for the rest of the week. I was excited and nervous, and asking for advice, and being just plain stupid. But then Friday popped up out of nowhere, and we had out date, and it was the best date ever. Granted I’ve never really been out on a date before, but I think that in the history of successful dates, this one takes the cake.
Biased? Me? Now… okay, you got me. But if you could get a guy to laugh as often as I did, I think you’d be feeling pretty awesome.
Until that cold throws you on the ground. Ugh, I hate noses.
Guess what I listened to today…
Yes, that’s a pretty appalling video. I’m sorry, but Vevo doesn’t let others see their stuff without going to Youtube. Now why would I take you away from my beloved blog? But anyway, back to the actual topic.
If you compare Justin Bieber’s voice to the time he sang “Baby”, one of his first hits, you will realize that he is actually experiencing puberty. Thank heaven, right? But after that initial laugh of, “Oh, I’m sure the Bieber fans will love that nugget of info,” I listened to the rest of the song. I got past the jingle bells and the premature holiday cheer, and I realized…
Justin Bieber is actually attractive.
Mind blown.
It looked something like this... black turtleneck and all.
I know you must think I’m crazy, but I need you to know something important that could save your life: I am definitely crazy. But I’m not saying that I’m attracted to the moy (almost man, but mostly boy). The whole fact that there are crazy females that have nothing better to do than stalk every second of his life is enough to put me off pursuing him if I did have a thing for him. Seriously, what kind of rational person insists that they love someone, and then send death threats to the woman that he chose to fall in love with?
"No.. Selena... GOMEZ! EVA!!"
So, I have a newly discovered respect for the moy, and I understand (sort of not really) why anyone would go all Joan Crawford on his girlfriend, but you will not catch me with a bracelet with his name on it.
…Baby, baby, baby. OOH.
As with any other female with a brain in this world, I have a thing for Rupert Grint. Mommy Gaffigan would tell you, “That’s such a lie! She was all over Daniel Radcliffe when she was younger. If we had the money, she would have her wall covered with his face like a stalker.” But let me tell you, that was before Mister Grint matured into… well, Mister Grint.
Ladies, contain your orgasms.
The odds are stacked against me, though. He lives on the other side of the pond, and I am not even on the D-list. Needless to say, I would have to give karma a freaking pony in order for me to get to meet him. Or I would have to create a careful plan in which I sneaked my way onto the top of the A-lists to the point where he’s writing a blog about how desperately he wants to meet me.
It can happen no other way.
But it’s not just his looks that steer me to crushing for him. He’s been in some fantastic movies outside of the “Harry Potter” series: Driving Lessons and Wild Target are perfect examples. Oh, you haven’t heard of them? Then you’re missing out. And you’re confirming my deepest fears that I’ve turned into one of the groups more terrifying than zombies…
Hipsters.
Anyway, Rupert Grint was very funny in those movies. He’s able to play that awkward boyish charm that is… awkward and clumsy and… shut up, he’s good, okay?
But I bet you’re wondering what brought me to confess my adoration for such a man as he. Well…
Have you been watching Youtube lately? (You must watch this video before I allow you to pass. Think Gandalf as a sexy lady with more power. That’s me. Sort of.)
Yeah, yeah? What’d you think? Isn’t that the crazy-sexy that Rupert’s known for? I certainly think so. I especially melted when he was lip-syncing. That had to be my favorite part. Because I could pretend, just like he was, that he was singing to me.
What, me crazy? What made you think that?
Ah, to be tired. Ain’t it great? …Actually, no, it’s not. And I don’t really have much reason to be. What have I been doing, you ask?
Well, Monday, I started brainstorming ideas for my Screen Studies project, which needs to be a three to five minute video. I bet you want to know what it’s all about, but I can’t say much right now. Not just because it’s sort of secret, but also because I’m not completely sure what I’m going to do. I have a couple of ideas, and I’m working on it, but until it’s actually done, I can’t really say anything about it. Don’t worry, I’ll let you guys get a view of the thing once it’s all said and done.
Tuesday, I continued working on a project, but for a different class: Intro Speech and Communication. We thought we would talk about gay marriage, a controversial issue that we thought we could talk about, but we didn’t get any farther than last Thursday.
Wednesday, we got a view into our group project for my intro to Hotel and Restaurant Administration (HRAD). Basically, we have to create a hospitality venue from scratch. We did have questions to guide us, however, so it was okay. But we were simply introduced to the project, and didn’t get farther than getting to know each other and gather cell phone numbers.
And today was probably the busiest day I’ve ever had. Speech class was today, and we decided to change our project topics, but we were able to get much farther with that than with our previous topic. Great. But then we had our project meeting for the HRAD, and we got a normal distance. Great. But then I continued working on my Screen Studies project, including props and such. Great.
But see what happens when I’m extremely tired. When I’m a little more than tired, I get crazy and I say some really funny stuff. But when I reach beyond tired, I’m out of touch with reality. I have no idea what to do with myself, and I start forgetting things and important stuff. Like Wednesday, I forgot I had a meeting to go to (sorry, Mommy Gaffigan). So, before I bore you any further, I’m going to call it a night.
