Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Operation Cop Out: Mission is Stupid.

6ceao95.jpg crush image by holler_melliee

Dear Diary,

Monday was can only be described as a total:

Operation Cop...Out.

No, no not operation: Coping a Feel. If there were such a thing, that would be another entirely different operation specified for slutty girls. But hey, you gotta give those slutty girls some Courage Points for doing what they do though, I mean not the feeling on guys part, but at least they aren't pulling an Operation Cop Out on the guy they're adoring from afar (and have been for the past 2 and a half weeks!).

Let me explain to you how I pulled an Operation Cop Out on Monday.

So. Obviously you should now know that every other Monday our P.E. class goes to the bungalow to watch cheesy health videos, take tests, and do fitness paperwork.

And we haven’t gone at all the past 3ish weeks which is when me and CCAN have started doing the eye-contact stuff and just this past week I’ve been seeing him sitting next to me and Veronica when we sit it roll call lines because he (for some odd reason) chooses to not hang out with his cool group of guy friends, but with the quiet guy who nobody has ever heard speak a word. CCAN is like the most perfect guy ever.

Yet he’s not.

He’s not super tall and gets a zit once in a while, but I actually like flaws in guys. It makes them seem less impossible to get and more approachable; friendly.

But he’s really cute. And he’s crazy nice. And it seems like he’s a lot of fun to be around since he’s always cracking jokes and stuff.

I love funny guys. Life is too short to wallowing in a puddle of your own self pity and moaning, “Why, oh why me?” while buying daggers to stab your suffering heart with. You know? If you’re not happy you might as well jump around in your ironic puddle of happy faces and buy cotton candy to munch on while belting out lyrics to Replay and Weezer’s Perfect Situation. It makes a little sense, right? Enjoy both the good in life and manage to make the bad stuff the best you possibly can, is what I think.

And yeah. He’s just so…adorable and amazing from what I’ve seen.

Key word: SEEN. I wish I could be closer to him. I wouldn’t have to just see because then I would just know.

Anyway, cut to the scene of 5th period on Monday afternoon where you see the lovely little That Girl sipping her bottle of amazing Dr. Pepper while chatting and giggling with her bundle of coed friends. For me Drama is 5th period with (DURR!) 6th period after which is Physical Education.

See a skinny Queen Bee with average/very-blah looks ask That Girl, “Are you going to the play?”

That Girl flips her freshly-washed-the-night-before-and-therefore-glimmering-brightly-at-you hair toward the usually bickering girl and says, “HUH?”

The girl with attitude says politely, “You know, the play of Romeo and Juliet?”

OH SNAP The polished and elegant That Girls thinks to herself. (Or more as, the clumsy and ironic metaphor-speaking That Girl thinks to herself.)

“I don’t know if I turned that form in to go to that,” That Girl (moi, mon ami) says with confusion evenly spread across her 10-minute-makeup face.

And so I went to ask my Drama teacher if I turned my paper in.

“Your paper?” the teacher says with a joking tone in her voice and uses her actress voice as she goes through her pile of papers and reads of names such as Bill and Joan. I try to ask her if MY name is there or not, but natch another person (a T.A. I believe) comes over to ask the teacher something. There you see That Girl standing there looking stupider than one of those stupid “FAIL” pictures-of animals getting hit in the head with Frisbees and idiot people forgetting how to sit on a toilet-you find lurking around the internet.

So I sit down and tell my buddies at the table that the teacher didn’t want to tell me and that I decided to go anyway.

I ended up going to see the play instead of going to P.E. because if you saw the play you could skip 6th period. I was so nervous about sitting next to CCAN’s desk (because we’re all in alphabetical order when we sit in the bungalow) that I did the baby way of dealing with a crush.

Crawling away as best I could.

And that’s what happened. Your so-called “Ball-out and Courageous” That Girl is like the lion in The Wizard of Oz when it comes to liking a guy.

Weak and in need of Courage.

And that’s basically it. I’m kind of feeling stupid and frustrated at myself so I won’t be typing up a storm today, just typing up a light breeze, if you would.

Je suis une fille stupide et l√Ęche

Yahoo Babel Fish translate it yourself.

-That Girl, Je suis un grand enfant maintenant?

Maybe the Pampers commericals lied.

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