because you asked for it, more awkward stories from my v. strange life. enjoy!

(missed a story? catch up on rory, thatcher, rob and james.)

writing these stores has helped me to discover a number of things about myself. patterns are emerging. chiefly that i crush in deranged cycles that eventually lead to disaster. i deny, i become obsessed, it doesn't work and i choose another victim. i can only think of one crush that differs from this pattern.


you can call him robinson. even though I'm going with the one name thing, nothing i could've chosen has anywhere near the star power of his real one. robinson was like my own little celebrity and i liked him that way.


i wish i was kidding about the star power thing, but i still think he really was. he fit the prototype of course, but he kicked butt in the arts department. he was big into drama, and played a whole bunch of instruments. he played bass, guitar, drums and piano. and he had a killer voice that always made me want to take of my panties and throw them at the stage. it was beautiful in its right, but he also had a way of moulding to anyone's voice. in a 2nd he was bono, the next, the king of pop. and he had this way of strutting around on stage.


one summer in high school, i was a camp counsellor where he was program staff. i followed him around as much as i could. i got my campers to fall for him and headed up his fan club there. i scribbled his name in a million notebooks and pined for him like he was miles away instead of three cabins down.


speaking to robinson was out of the question. just like you couldn't walk down and talk to zac efron. unfortunately the one time I did talk to him, it was because a particular friend of mine was showing off a mammoth mosquito bite I had gotten. most of our encounters were in my head.

but that was it. i liked him as a celebrity and as forest gump would say "that's all I have to say about that."


author's note: this is HILARIOUS to read cause robinson and i are actually friends now. i should've beleived my mom back then when she said that a) boys are just as insecure as girl, and b) robinson was great but not better than me. i really did elevate him to celebrity status, and consequently put him out of league. if you beleive in leagues in the first place, and she doesn't. anyway, one more before i have to get back to work.


if i put all my romantic encounters on a chart you would see that the majority of them cluster up from ages 10 to 13. ah, junior high! tempers flaring and hormones ablaze. it was a beautiful time. people were so desperate to experience everything that they'd settle for anyone. still not me though, in most cases. but that was alright. i had my sights set on someone else.


no that i think about it, clay carlise was the reason i set up my prototype and never again strayed from it. clay wasn't and still isn't very artistic, but what he does do is sports. imagine me, at my tubbiest in grade 7 trying to keep up with one of the most athletic guys in my school.


a lot of girls liked clay in middle school, but none as long as i did – two straight years.


boys were confusing at that time. i was against note passing. against friends doing your dirty work. (do you like amy? check yes or no.) that leaves you way too open for rejection. i needed the cover of dark, distracting background noise and the ability to walk away and pretend nothing ever happened. that meant my perfect place to move was at school dances.


i don't summon my kahones very often. so i remember these moments – gearing myself up to ask clay to dance – quite vividly. my palms got sweaty (thanks for the genes their dad). my queasy stomach pulsed to the beat of the music. luckily my friend tiffany liked alex, clay's best friend. so we asked them to dance in tandem. alex and tiffany practically velcroed themselves together. after some dillydallying clay let me slip my arms around him.


gosh, grade 8 dancing is awkward.

a christina aguilera song was playing. And while everyone else was rocking back and forth awkwardly. clay was struck with a sudden bout of logorrhoea. he talked to me. he waddled us toward tiff and alex. he steered us to a couple we didn't know and started talking to them. talking, talking, talking. i still thanked him after.in a way, we both could write it off like nothing really happened. i stepped back in line with my group of friends and pretended my world just hadn't been rocked. (or at least, until the dance was over, i'm pretty sure i told EVERYONE when i got home)


it was a few months to the next school dance and i waited patiently. by this time tiff and alex were almost a couple so she didn't have to wait for me anymore. when the fourth slow song came on and i was tired of pretending to do something i thought about going over to him. kelly clarkson gently pointed out that "some people wait a life time for a moment like this." and i was tired of waiting.


he said yes. and this i think is the time i hope to never forget. if i think hard enough, i still remember what it's like to be held. to stare out over clay's shoulder and be convinced absolutely nothing was wrong with the world. to smell his adidas cologne and fresh laundry: to feel goose bumps absolutely everywhere when our cheeks touched, if only for a second.


i tried to talk myself out of liking clay shortly after that. (i do this a lot) but when the third dance rolled around, i didn't want to be alone. i tried to be all cool about it, like trick him into it. i think i said something like "everyone else is doing it, so we should too." but this time, clay didn't seem to need much convincing. my crush on him wasn't much of a secret those days, but it always wasn't known enough to become full fledged gossip, just little grade eight murmurs. so i've always wondered, did he know i like him and feel the same? or did he simply come to expect it?


after that, a plan was put in place. the next dance was our grade eight graduation and for once i was going to ask him, straight out, if he liked me. but even now, i've still never told anyone that i liked them. the week before the dance was sheer agony. i was so nervous i could barely eat. i fretted about it constantly. the grad ceremony seemed to drag on forever.


the dance was finally set to being and i was feeling the prettiest i'd ever been (to later be topped by grade twelve prom). i wanted to wait outside so that when clay came u could make it look like we had arrived at the same time


i waited all night, but he never came. and he was going to a different high school than i was. it wasn't like I never saw him again. i actually still bump into clay a few times a year. i just never had the guts to ask him where he was that day and i imagine now I'll never know.


but that's okay. something happened that day made me forget all about him, at least for a little while.


whoa! cliffhanger. haha. i'll post some more soon, but i've really gotta get back to my homework. one quick thing though, is it creepy or cute that i STILL remember what it's like to rest my head on clay's shoulder? i've got a really strong kinetic memory if that makes sense. (or i may have just made that term up). either way, the girl clay's dating now is SO SO sweet and i pretty much want them to get married. so? who's got awkward middle school dance stories for me! share away!


-xoxo.



got the pic from here, and here.