Feelin' Groovy

So, about this boy that I like. I think he may like me back. But unfortunately, due to years of social ineptitude and a general inexperience in actual relationships, I have no idea how to judge these things. Also, I'm such a pansy that I refuse to ask him out. At least, not yet. Plus, it's only the second week of school. I don't wanna freak him out. He's pretty quiet and shy.

I have a mildy embarassing/cute story about him, actually. In spanish class, which is third hour, we had to stand in two lines and converse with the person across from us, and then the line would move down one person. It just so turned out that he was in the line across from me, so we were partners eventually. Anywho, once we got done with our Spanish speaking, I told him I liked his bracelet-y thingy. He said thanks, and I stepped forward to look at it and asked if it was stretchy, and he said yes, and I asked if I could try it on and he said no! I was a little taken aback, but I just sort of moved on anyways, talking to him and other people to make it seem like I wasn't disappointed.

This is where the story gets cute. We have Algebra II last hour together, and he, Darbi (a friend of mine), and I sit in the front row. My teacher told us to scootch close and work together, which made me pretty happy. I'm all hunched over my textbook because I have bad vision and I also was trying to figure out what the crap I was supposed to do, and I see the bracelet plopped onto my desk. I swear, my face like lights up and I'm all, "Ohhhhhhhhhh thank you!" Then I promptly slide it onto my wrist. Not wanting to be a creeper, I take it off and offer it back to him, but he shakes his head. So I get to keep it!

This post wasn't supposed to be entirely about my little crush but I think it might end up being that way. It's so strange, sometimes he acts all cutely shy and enamored and sometimes he doesn't. I forgot to wear the bracelet the day after he gave it to me, then the next day I wore it. That day I was in Spanish and I told the girl next to me that the assignment was kicking my butt. From a little ways away, he says, "If you sit by me, I'll help you," and then he gives me this little smile! Being a major girly-girl, I'm just like, "Ok!!!" :D :D Subtlety is not my strong point. But he is so shy I don't know if he realizes quite how into him I am. He gives me these looks and smiles and does these cute little things and then sometimes he doesn't. Whatever, it's not like I care (I do pretty much care).

THIS IS WEAR RANDOM CRUSH RAMBLING ENDS. I have been watching football. I spent my day today, which by the way is the only day I haven't had homework or some kind of lesson or both, watching football, and then I came home and I'm currently watching more football. But it's understandable, because the Packers are playing. I freaking love the Green Bay Packers. Plus they're even beating Indiana, wooo!

Here's a picture of me almost right after my hair was dyed. I'm the one with the purple-ish hair and the red glittery lips. My friend is Meghan, and she's practically my sister. She's my brother's girlfriend's younger sister.



Pretty awesome huh? The picture is slightly blurry, but not bad. And yes, my skin is freakishly pale. It's just how I am, I don't actually avoid the sunlight. I would try giving you some more photos, because Meghan and I had a "high fashion" photoshoot, but lately technology has been malfunctioning around me, so I'll leave it at this.

Encantada, Jesus.

I'm drinking a cup of tea, sitting in front of the computer screen in all of my purple-haired glory. My hair is now purple. I didn't even plan this.
A couple of things have happened recently. School started, I met a cute boy that I've barely talked to, my nephew needed surgery, I wrote a short story which I will share with you later, I dyed my hair purple, and I cleaned the entire bathroom. Fortunately, my nephew is doing well and should be recovering. I had to clean the entire bathroom tonight, and it was disgusting. Cleaning the bathroom wasn't even "punishment" for dyeing my hair purple, it's just what my mom had planned for my Saturday, I guess. My mom isn't a fan of coloring hair on the best of days, and she detests the purple. It's more of a purpleish red, and it's kind of pretty, but she hates it.
I'm not even in the two classes I really wanted to be in this year. I don't have art or Kansas History. I don't like history but I need to get that stupid class out of the way.
Insomnia is killer. These last two nights I've been doing ok on the sleep thing, but other times I've either been not sleeping or having horrible nightmares. The short story I wrote is actually based on one of my nightmares.
You know what makes me really mad? All of my favorite boys are going to college or the marines or whatever. There were a whole bunch of cute senior boys last year, one of whom even told me that he like me. One of my best guy friends is going into the marines. My older brother Hunter (the father), is going to college, and my other older brother Cameron is already there. A guy who is my brother of sorts in that he's Hunter's girlfriend's brother and pretty close to me has decided to go to college this year. Even some of my band camp boys are going to the army or the marines or college! But, I suppose everyone needs to move on with their lives.
My only consolation is that there's a cute new boy this year and he's a junior (only one grade ahead of me!). We even have a ton of classes together, including Bio II and Spanish and some others. He's sooooo quiet, though, it's hard to tell what he's thinking. However, he does appear to be an amazing artist and that makes me really happy. Also his hair is really adorable and I freaking love guys with awesome hair.

Like Sims, Only Real Life

You know how every girl seems to have this fantasy of growing up, finding that one perfect guy, getting married, maybe having some children and some pets and a job that she really likes or perhaps her husband has a well-paying job so she can just relax and pursue her interests? I never had that dream. And yes I also realize that was an incredibly long sentence. But, honestly speaking, I have never really thought about that "perfect guy." I'm sure every girl thinks about it a little bit, and I have too, and I realize that this has nothing to do with anything, but here goes. My perfect guy.

My ideal man... We'll start with physical appearance. I'd want him to be taller than me, but not a whole bunch. Maybe about three to five inches. He should either be heroin-chic skinny or slightly muscular. He should have longish hair, that's perfectly floppy, whether it's straight or curly. Every time he smiles his entire face ought to light up as though he's absolutely thrilled to see me. He also should not be disgustingly hairy (if he can pass it off as endearing I suppose it's ok). He can have face stubble though. But he is definitely not allowed to have that pathetic little goatee sort of thing that every guy in my school seemed to be trying to grow last year. I don't care too much about his clothes... Nerd jeans are sort of endearing, or he could be wearing those perfectly-fitting-yet-still-baggy jeans that are so hot. The only thing I can't stand is when his pants are ripped to shreds for no reason. Hopefully he has a couple of cute hoodies and he lets me wear one. Band tees, some casual button downs, maybe some slim fit t-shirts. Wears a belt occasionally, doesn't match his shoes. He canNOT wear tennis shoes/athletic shoes all the time! It pisses me off even though there is no legitimate reason for it to make me so mad!

This fantasy boy needs to have good taste in music. It doesn't have to be the same as mine, although there should be some overlap so we can sit in the dark and hold hands and just listen to music. Actually it would be really hard for him to have good taste in music and not listen to something I listen to, because I just know a lot of music. I really hope that didn't sound pretentious... Music is a biggy. No music, no boy. He will be able to play an instrument, might be in band, or even like A BAND, and is working on either guitar/bass/drums/harmonica, perhaps even banjo. He has this amazing voice, not necessarily a good singing voice, but when he whispers cute little nothings in my ear it gives me chills. He needs to know what I'm talking about when I reference certain classical pieces, and he should have a good understanding of the 90's grunge scene even though I don't.

My dream guy needs to be intelligent, but I'm not saying he has to be more intelligent than me. I'm insecure enough that I like being smarter. It's not a good thing, but still, it happens. He should read, but he doesn't have to read as obsessively as I do. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and the Eragon series are a necessity, though, and hopefully he digs the classics too. He watches Star Wars, and uses mildly inappropriate pick-up lines, but only when he's joking and only to me. He watches anime, but not so much that I feel bad that I don't know more about it, and sometimes he presents me with new shows. He reads webcomics. We laugh at inside jokes together. He's a dreamer, and a believer, an optimist, and all the happy things I wish I could be. My parents don't have to like him, although my guy will respect them even when I don't. He gets along with my siblings. He lets me be alone sometimes, but he knows when I really need someone even if I won't say it. I don't get jealous; he shouldn't either. He isn't clingy.

He should be funnier than I am, and nicer and more sociable. He will have one really good friend but a larger group of slightly more casual friends that I mostly like. He will get my slightly cynical sense of humor and watch Nightmare Before Christmas with me more than once. My guy would laugh at my that's-what-she-said jokes and all manners of inappropriate sex jokes, and he won't berate me for my catty comments on different promiscuous girls in my school. He will let me make marginally uncalled-for jokes about hipsters and even make some of his own. Every once in a while he will take me to events or places that require me to dress up just because he knows I like excuses to wear dresses and high heels and lipstick. He's the kind of guy who never really thought about going to prom at all but took me anyways because he knows how happy it would make me. He would probably wear converse with his tux, and look amazing.

And now, all closing thoughts on my supposed perfect guy. He needs to keep his nails clean, and if his feet smell bad he should at least do something about it. If he has ever shaved his legs or if he does shave his legs, that's ok. Absolutely no crack, smack, or meth should ever be done by this boy. If he smokes weed, then that's acceptable, as long as it isn't very often and not around me. If he has done LSD or ecstasy that's whatever as long is it doesn't become a habit and he doesn't do it ever when he's over twenty-five. I don't know why twenty-five is the cut off age, it just is. Actually, no drugs are allowed if we're in high school. It's going to sound weird coming out of a fourteen year old mouth, but he needs to be able to handle his liquor. I don't want him to be drunk for some reason and come to my house crying and then throw up in my bathtub and pass out in my brother's room or something. Believe me, it happens. If he does drink, he needs to have at least reasonable taste in booze. He is not allowed to drink Pabst Blue Ribbon, a known preference of hipsters and piss-poor college students. He needs to be older than me, anywhere from two to four (or five, as I get a little bit older) years older. He needs to say what he means. Piercings are wonderful and amazing, but he needs to be able to pull them off. As for tattoos, he can have some but he isn't allowed to be completely covered in tattoos. Maybe like one or two. He should like mac n cheese and pizza rolls and spicy food. He should blow bubbles with me. And most of all, he needs to have an inborn sense of respect for everyone around him.

I guess that is my dream guy. I've never thought so intensively about it, but I suppose this pretty much sums it up. Also, I'm going to keep a diary of sorts of every song that pops into my head and starts playing it's melody whether I want it to or not. So far today it's been "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and some song by Katy Perry but I can't remember the title. And for a while I couldn't get that one pop song that goes "All the right moves in all the right places. Yeah, we're going down," out of my head.

He's Kind of Fruity

Ok, good. I just saved you from listening to (or reading, whatever) a long spiel about why I have misgivings about blogging. But since I was going to post that rant on my blog, I figured it wasn't worth it and I just spared you a bunch of whining. :)

Amazingly, crying babies don't upset me. I mean, they upset me in the way that I'm sad because something is wrong and they're crying, but the crying itself doesn't annoy me. I think the crying doesn't get to me simply because I'm cold hearted and unfeeling, but I may be wrong. Anyways, a friend was babysitting a, what else, baby, and she was freaking out because he wouldn't stop crying. I came over and calmed the baby, somehow destroying the home owner's refrigerator lock in the process. I didn't even know they made locks for refrigerators!

School is starting soon. I hate to say it, but I can't deny the truth. I'm disappointed, though... It feels like the summer has just begun, and I regret not doing a lot of things. When the summer starts, I'm always thinking that I'll read some important books, work out, be creative, become a better person, and maybe make my face pretty, but it doesn't happen. I have, however, blown a lot of bubbles, used up some of my sidewalk chalk, drawn trippy mushrooms, had picnics on my roof-porch, gone to New Orleans, and listened to a lot of music.

Also, since school is starting, I'm going to be subjected to my usual self-deprecating thoughts in full force yet again, and insecurity will become a way of life. If this sounds depressing, it's not, really. I find it kind of funny, actually.

Even though hardly anyone reads this (I got another follower, whoo!), I'm sure you are all wondering about the title. Too bad. I'll leave you with a couple of ending thoughts:

The new English teacher better be fat and funny like the last one.
Why do guys insist on wearing short shorts?
He had the best snake bites...
I hate to compare music, but The Cure is better than the Smiths.
It was really freaking hot today.
I'm watching my language.
I want to watch the Boondock Saints again.

Don't Stand So Close To Me

The county fair was going on these last couple of nights. I love the fair! Only I didn't get to see the demolition derby. That made me sad. But guess what? Two of my band camp boys came! I was so excited about that.
My fair experience consisted of "volunteer" working a lot, sitting in hippy circles, riding tons of rides, seeing a couple of very hot guys, playing games and almost never winning, and the usual 4-H stuff.
Here are some pictures for you to enjoy!



Isn't her expression of disdain just perfect? Not to mention she looks pretty awesome.

This is so what I would look like if I was awesome and cute. Look at her pink sweater! Both of these pictures are from Face Hunter and I would totally make that a link but I still have issues trying to do that so you will have to deal with it.

I would have something more substantial to say, but my thoughts are a little scattered today.