School’s Not Out Forever

Alice Cooper is a dirty liar.

Well, I’m back again and it’s time to do the whole balancing act in which I try to have a social life, succeed academically, and learn to control my knack for getting into uncomfortable situations.

We’ll see what happens.

And here’s some greeter stories for you!

And they’re all about my hair!!! #girlpost

Return of the Nerd

It was the dreaded day of move-in, solely dreaded due to its hectic nature.

Otherwise, it was fun “HOLY CRAP, I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN MONTHS!” time.

Reunited and it feels so goooood…

Anyways, I had seen a good deal of my friends, who then went off to unpack as I relaxed for a bit outside.

After a while, I noticed a small circle of people not far from where I sat. Among them was a friend of mine, who must have finished her unloading already. I thought my luck was good today, as when I saw her, she turned and looked back in my general direction. I waved, hoping to get her attention.

Little did I know, some other fellow was walking in the dead space between my friend and I.

He thought I was waving at him.

He waved back.

Things got awkward.

I glanced up at the lad as he walked in my direction, trying to figure out how best to work out the whole “Oh, I was saying hi to her, not you” situation.

And my jaw dropped a little as I noted Man-nerd staring back at me with a considerable amount of confusion.

Note: Man-nerd no longer lives in the residence hall with our gaggle of friends. Hence my shock upon seeing him.

And so we stared at one another. Once my “deer in the headlights” phase passed, I became rather offended. He was staring at me with the air of someone who has just encountered a slightly unattractive alien on their front porch. I mean, I hadn’t expected him to explode with joy if we did see each other again, but I thought a smile or obligatory head nod might be in order.

Well.

Suddenly Man-nerd’s face transformed into what I could only assume was the love-child of a gasp and a smile. Better than an alien-encounter face, but I still had no idea what was going on.

He promptly rushed over and I, relying on instinct more than my usual thought pattern, accepted a hug without incident.

“Your hair is so different!” he exclaimed, “You look like a different person! How are you, girl?”

I was still kind of taking in the shock of his arrival and it took me a second to get my bearings.

“Good,” I heard myself say, “I’ve been doing good.”

Well, that’s not grammatically correct at all, but…

Here was the part where I would pull away and ask “How was your summer?” like I had with everyone else. On a side note, I really don’t know why people still ask that (or perhaps just college students specifically) as the magic of the internet allows everyone to know exactly how everyone else is every second of the day. Must just be a lingering courtesy thing. Anyways, as I attempted to do so, I was met with that awkward situation one often faces in which one party is done hugging, while the other has not quite had their fill. I got out the courtesy question, but my step backwards out of the embrace was met with a protesting squeeze which would have caused me to choke on my gum. You know, if I partook in the practice of imitating a cow.

Otherwise the greeting went well, which is more than I can say for most things.

Let’s State the Obvious!

Sounds like a bad game show, doesn’t it?

To get right into it, just before entering one of my lectures, I discovered that the professor was one that I had already had last fall. I really liked him, so I was quite excited. I also wondered if he would remember me.

He did.

He called out my name on the roster, I replied, and he glanced down at his class list to move on to the next person.

Then he looked back up at me.

“You’ve changed your hair color since last year,” he said.

I nodded.

It was an odd thing to work out a reply to, so I determined that I would say, “Yes, it used to be brown.” Or, “Yeah. The black and the bangs are new.”

Both statements would have worked.

Instead, I combined the two into one very pointless statement.

“Yeah, I dyed it black and got bangs.”

As I was speaking, all I could think was, Why are you saying this?

He knows your hair is black.

He knows you have bangs.

He can see you.

He’s staring at you right now.

Oh my God, don’t say that.

Oh my God, shut up.

You sound so stupid!

OH MY GOD!

SHUT.

UP.

Now it’s too late.

It’s amazing the speed at which one can think, yet I could not for the life of me react and listen to myself.

Ah well.

Cheers to a new year.

Best,

Awkward Girl

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The Trouble with Doppelgangers

Hello again, reader.
If you haven’t noticed already (and if so, well, pay attention!) I sometimes have the tendency to freak out over things that really do not warrant freaking out over.
Such an event happened recently while my chums and I were out dining.

Before I go on, I would like to mention that this was a twenty-four hour restaurant and it was approximately one in the morning, so a touch of fatigue may have added to my behavior.

We had finished our meal and my dear friend Sarah and I were waiting on others to pay their bill. This restaurant had a few quarter jewelry machines in the corner, along with a claw machine (you know, the impossible ones that never close completely so you waste all of your money and your dreams attempting to get a teddy bear that is probably only worth ten cents to begin with). Sarah was inspecting the jewelry whilst I assured her I would gladly pay the fifty cents to get her a silly necklace. I glanced around, into the claw machine, and back at Sarah.

Then I did a double take.

I found myself staring rather wide-eyed into the claw machine. I was having a mental crisis. Once I determined I needed help, I called upon my friend.

“Er, Sarah, look at that doll.”
“What?”
“That doll. In the claw machine. The cloth doll. Sarah…she looks like me.”

Her response was a burst of laughter.

“No, seriously, look! It’s me. Like, before I dyed my hair.”
 Sarah humored me and examined the doll.
“Ah…well…yeah…I mean…yeah, she does.”

This doll was causing me some serious problems.
She had brown hair, nearly the same shade as mine, and it was pulled back into a ponytail with a few strands falling out in a manner that was strikingly similar to my own. She had dark eyes and rectangular glasses.
I stepped closer.
She was wearing a green blazer. This is the point where I really started freaking out. The very same green blazer was sitting out in my car. And – her shoes! Converse All-Stars. The very same which currently adorned my feet.

Time to start panicking.

Who was stalking me? What crazy, low budget toy maker was sewing replicas of myself to shove in claw machines?? Were little girls walking around at this very moment, happily cuddling me???
WHAT?

I kept up a long string of conversation about this doll for a good portion of the night.
Pretty sure my friends got annoyed with it.

Naturally, after I returned home and got a good night’s rest, I forgot all about it.
That is, until one evening when our friend the television happened to be on.

I was writing away, aware of the cartoon movie I had turned to simply for background noise, and thus not actually watching it. After a few minutes, I rubbed my tired eyes and looked up. And would you believe it, reader…I was on television.

Well, not really.
What I had thought was me was on television. It was a little cartoon girl, which explained the cloth doll and why little girls I had never met were happily cuddling me – er – her.

Have you ever watched Despicable Me?
It is one of my sister’s favorites and rather cute.
Or maybe you’ve simply heard of it. The sequel recently came out so it’s all over the place.
Well, I had never noticed before, but I bare a rather strong resemblance to little Margo.
See examples here –

Image

Image

Image

Funny, right?

That last one describes my interactions with men a little too accurately.

Since then, my friends insist someone has spied on me to create the character.
Though I have apologized for my overzealous behavior, but I haven’t completely ruled out the possibility.
I won’t say more, they could be watching me right now…

Best,

Awkward Girl

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I Am a Pretty Boy

Really weird title, right?
It will all make sense in the long run.
I have not wrote to you in a while, so I am going to backtrack and share past awkwardness with you all.

So, slap on your seatbelts and let’s crank this baby up to eighty-eight, because we’re going back!

Baby, You’re a Firework (Make ‘Em Go “Oh, Oh, Oh”)

Back at ye old college, I was merrily on my way to one of our various food locations. The weather was fine and everyone was in a pleasant mood. As I turned a corner, I caught sight of my comrades, Mike and Rob. 

No, those are not their real names.
Yes, I am very creative in coming up with male names.
Thank you for noticing.

They saw me as well and waved. I hurried to catch up to them and it was decided that we would all have a good lunch together. Fate must have been in a good mood as well, for our friend Gabriel also showed up within minutes.

And so we sat in a little sports bar that played music a tad too loudly, in my opinion. It only took seconds for Rob to belt out Katy Perry in obnoxious tones.

“Dude, that girl is staring at you,” Mike snickered. Indeed, a nearby girl was looking quite scandalized by Rob’s voice.
“It’s because I’m attractive,” he replied.

We all had a good laugh and focused on our food for a time. Then, Gabriel took out his phone, tapped away, and put it down. Seconds later, Rob’s phone went off, he pulled it out to look at it, and promptly burst into laughter.

Mike and I exchanged a glance and predictably began to badger the other two in an effort to make them share the secret. Rob relented and showed his phone to Mike, who also laughed excessively.

Now, I became really indignant. I pleaded, persuaded, and ultimately demanded to know what the joke was. Gabriel became flustered and insisted that it was kept from me. I ignored him and focused on Rob, who usually gave me whatever I wanted. The trend held true and he handed his phone over with a sigh.

The text read:

That girl who was staring at you? She must have really thought you were attractive.
She’s sliding off of her chair.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said quickly, “I know that is inappropriate and -”

The rest of his statement was drowned out by my outburst of laughter.

“Oh…I…okay, that went over better than I thought,” he stammered in surprise, “Usually…usually girls don’t…”

Now I was caught somewhere between embarrassment and more indignation. Just because I was a lady did not mean I couldn’t enjoy a suggestive joke. But maybe because I was a girl, I wasn’t supposed to? Was this unlady-like? Was I being a boy again? Did I care all that much?

Eh, not really.

So Much Cooler Online

Now, to assure you that I’m not all-man, I’ll share with you the weirdest compliment I have ever received. For reference, the most common compliment I receive is “you smell nice” which is kind of a creepy compliment, isn’t it?

Anywho, I was minding my own business, chillin’ in my dorm room, when my dear friend Kat stopped outside my door.

“Hey, my mom is here. Do you want to meet her?”
“Oh, yay! Sure,” was my enthusiastic reply.

I stepped into the hall and shook hands with the older woman, who was very Catholic and thus made me paranoid that I was going to do something inappropriate that would make her hate me. Surprisingly, I did not, and she even complimented my dress.

Days after this occurrence, I was hanging in Kat’s room. I remembered the encounter and asked if her mother “approved” of her friends. I was partially joking, but also partially serious. I mean, I didn’t want her mother to detest us.

“Oh, Mom really likes you,” Kat replied, “She was talking about you and said, ‘You know, she’s pretty in real life.’”
“Aw! Thank – wait. I’m what?”
“Pretty in real life.”
“What? What does that mean? Am I…like…ugly in fake life?”

Kat laughed and shrugged.

“I don’t know what she meant.”

I pondered this for a length of time, but could not make heads nor tails of it. It was not until months later that I thought I figured it out. Dear Kat let it slip that her mother often logs into her Facebook. Kat and I are friends on Facebook, obviously, and I frequently post silly pictures or jokes on her profile.

“Oh!! Okay! Your mom has seen me on Facebook! She’s seen my pictures and thought I was pretty, but…but…that I wouldn’t be pretty in real life? …Huh.”

Still not sure whether I should be flattered, confused, or lightly offended.
Either way, her mother is nice.

Until next time –

Best,

Awkward Girl

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Just Checking In

Hello, reader.

I thought I would ensure you that I am not dead. Nope. Nada. No such luck.

A few updates on the life of Awkward Girl –

  • Sissy’s wedding is done and done. It was beautiful and fantastical and I didn’t stutter at all during my Maid of Honor speech. Success!
  • I has job. A new restaurant is opening in town and I’m the hostess. The owners are like nice grandparents. It’s quite awesome.
  • I had this realization recently that all of my single friends are now in those relationship thingies. I am once again the three legged giraffe on Noah’s Ark of Love.
  • I’m working on a book. Isn’t that weird? But fun. We’ll see what happens.
  • My dog is taking a nap. This is a very recent update.

I’ll be back to you soon. I can’t see this whole job thing blowing over smoothly.
Fingers crossed?

Best,

Awkward Girl

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Versatile Blogger

DID YOU MISS ME?

Of course you did!

It’s funny, I’ve been badgering myself for days to get back to my blog, but I couldn’t find the drive to do so. In a lovely coincidence, I was nominated for The Versatile Blogger Award by i before e, and that was just the kick in the pants I needed to get back to writing.

Because I’m cool.
And you people like me.
Okay…even if you don’t, pretend you do.
It’s good for my self-esteem.

You know the drill, every award has rules. Very similar ones.

1. Thank and link the person who gave you the award.
2. Tell seven facts about yourself.
3. Pass it on to seven other bloggers.
4. Link to specific posts on their blogs so they’ll be notified by pingback (oh, that one’s actually quite clever).

First off, THANK YOU I BEFORE E! 😀

Now more facts. Soon you lot will know more facts about me than my friends in real human life shall. This is both cool and slightly depressing.

1. I have a strange habit of immediately adopting sayings other people use if I like them. Even more, I will inflict my voice to mock their speech patterns without meaning to. I have no idea why I do this.
2. I very much enjoy tying colored ribbons in my hair and wearing bright and unusual lipstick. This, coupled with my previously noted love of men’s fashion, makes me wonder why no one has turned me in to What Not to Wear.
3. I possess absolutely no rhythm, yet I rock The Cabbage Patch. No lie. I’ve received many compliments. Potentially sarcastic ones, but still.
4. My favorite instrument is the piano. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful. I also had a slight crush on Laurie from Little Women that was based mostly on his skill as a pianist.
5. I would like to work in film/television production and continue something like this to satisfy my desire to write for the amusement of others.
6. The last day of this month, my sister will be wed. I’m quite excited.
7. Moments before posting this, my seventh fact was going to be my real name. Not the whole thing, just the first. Then I wondered how much it mattered; would you think any differently of me if I was Ashley or Morgan or Sarah, than if I was just Awkward Girl? And, if it didn’t matter, would the thing to do then be just to put it out there like it’s nothing, or to not even bother mentioning it? I really don’t know and I’m not sure why I’m over-thinking this. And now it’s not a fact at all. Hm. My cousin is afraid of turtles. There.

And now for seven other blogs. Spreadin’ the looove.

Happy Cancer Girl (love her)
Stressing Out College (relatable name)
Socially Oxward (love the name)
Awkward Charm (that’s like an oxymoron, right?)
i before e, of course, but she’s already done it, so that would be a silly circle
I think I’ve linked you to Southsea enough to where you know who we both are
And I don’t have a seventh one

Good to see ya’ll again. Well, not really see, but you get it.
I also would like to share that I recently had this very wonderful moment where a girl who I did not know all that well quoted a bit from a speech I had made a year ago at me. I was very surprised she remembered it and she even mentioned that she really doesn’t listen when others talk (ah, who does?) so it was special for her to remember my words. That was one of those moments when this whole writing thing doesn’t seem like a bunch of hooey.

I’ll write again soon.

Best,
Awkward Girl

 

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That Awkward Moment When Everyone Makes Things Awkward and I’m Still Uncoordinated

Hello, reader.

College is winding down, which means the intense stress and worries of final exams are upon us all.

But this also means that silly, end of the year par-tays are upon us as well.

And if I love anything, I love me a silly party.

My dorm had a big bash, complete with music, chalk on the sidewalk, an opportunity to throw pies in the faces of the staff, and a large, inflatable obstacle course dominated by a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

WE’RE ADULTS.

My comrades and I were the last ones left at this par-tay, as most others had gone off to study and whatnot like responsible people do. I, not being coordinated myself, was enjoying myself by watching the others run the obstacle course in turn. I was sitting by a good friend of mine, Ian, as the racers finished and came to join us again.

 After pausing to catch his breath, Man-nerd looks at me and says, “I haven’t done you yet.”

Now…now, come on. I know I have a tendency to make anything sound suggestive, but please. It’s right there. A perfect innuendo. His tone fit it and everything.

I raised my eyebrows at him and stared, because we both knew there was a joke to be made there, but neither of us was going to touch it.

Touch it. Suggestive jokes. Ahahaha.

I think I have the mindset of a twelve year old boy…

Anyway, Man-nerd broke the silence.

“I mean, I haven’t raced you yet.”

“Yeah, I was going to say that you should probably rephrase that.”

Ian chimes into the conversation here in his best sultry voice, saying, “Oh, he wishes he could say that.”

Something about the context of the joke seemed off to me.

“What?” I asked.

“He wishes he could say he hasn’t done you yet,” Ian replied.

Man-nerd and I exchanged a look.

“Wait,” he said, “I wish I could say I haven’t done her yet…meaning I have…?”

I may have laughed for five minutes straight.

So I agreed to race him and I have no idea why. I’m not coordinated. Nope. I used to be a runner but those days have long since passed along with my muscle mass.

We took off into the course!

It started with a small circle you had to leap through to actually get onto the inflatable. I thought this would prove to be a problem, but it was very easy. Following that was a small wall to climb. Again, easy.

Then things got unfair.

There was a small crack that the runner would have to squeeze through. This is a sexist crack. That was a weird sentence. The crack was sexist because someone like Man-nerd could slip through it easily. Someone like me would struggle. As in, someone with a chest and a butt could not maneuver as quickly as the skinny rail that is Man-nerd.

It was at this point I knew the race was over, but I still had to finish. I managed through the squeezing, but then there was this weird cross-y thing that I can’t even begin to explain. It involved a tunnel and everyone who went in for the first time got lost. Needless to say, I got lost.

The final stretch was a large wall to climb and a slide to the finish. Man-nerd was perched cockily on the top of the slide, cheering me on. I would like to say that I finished the race with all the dignity that my age assumes, but I tripped at the top of the slide and went down backwards.

On the upside, I got a laugh.

I’ll be staying off of the inflatables for a while. I don’t know why I expect to become magically coordinated at times. It will never happen.

Best,

Awkward Girl

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If I Am an Inspiration, Then the World is Screwed

Here I am again! Miss me? Of course you did.

The point of today’s post is that I was nominated for The Very Inspiring Blogger Award by good ol’ Project Southsea. Southsea also referred to me as his “little sister of sorts” and I don’t think the internet could possibly contain the amount of feels this statement induced.

Isn’t it slightly amazing to find that you’ve made friends with people you have never met and probably will never meet? It’s a nearly surreal feeling. The world is a big place and somehow we manage to make it so much closer just by tacking random thoughts up on a blogging site. Interesting.

I digress. Time to get to the rules.

Basically I must:

1.) Display the award logo.

2.) Link back to the person who gave you this award nomination.

3.) State seven pieces of information about yourself.

4.) Nominate 15 fellow bloggers, post links to their page and drop them a comment to let them know.

I did not copy and paste that at all.

If you will oblige me, let’s take a moment to stop and realize that the following logo will be the very first image ever included on one of my posts. Just let that sink in. Maybe there’s meaning in that somewhere.

Or maybe I’m lazy and never take the time to look for relevant pictures.

Both are highly probable answers.

Image

Well, that was fun. On to the information!

  1. I’m going to steal from Southsea here, as we have something in common. My name has a long version and a short version (usually used as a nickname). But, in my case, the short version is the only version. Every single time I introduce myself, people assume I am telling them my nickname, and they proceed to ask if my actual name is the long version. No. No, it is not. Also, did this make any sense?
  2. I’m known as the family oddball. I used to console myself in the belief that this was just a paranoid thought of mine, until one of my sisters confirmed it in saying, “Yeah, we all know you’re different. Not bad different, just weird.” And apparently my aunt is afraid of me. I dunno how I feel about this.
  3. When I was younger, I wanted to be a veterinarian and work with big cats. Then I realized the education would be mondo expensive and I really, really hate chemistry. Now I’m an English major.
  4. I’m not good with kids. I mean, they like me and want to play and everything, but I’m just not a kid person. I don’t have the desire to have children and I dislike holding babies. I feel like other women frown upon me for this.
  5. I don’t want kids, yet I have names picked out. Jane if it’s a girl. Milo if it’s a boy. I don’t understand my own contradiction. I think I just like to name things.
  6. I have determined that, in the realm of perfume, there are three main categories and women generally prefer one of them over the others. I’ve split them into “baked good smells”, “fruit smells”, and “flower smells”. I prefer “flower smells”. I’m looking to take over Bath & Body works with this idea.
  7. I have a tendency to like men’s fashion. I once wore a man’s dress shirt and a Gryffindor tie to lecture. No lie, some guy laughed at me. I still want a bow tie, though.

Now, I have to nominate fellow bloggers, which is going to be a short list.

Of none.

I know, I know. Awkward Girl, if you expect others to read you, then you should read more blogs in return. I’m working on it, I promise. I’ve started following more blogs that I haven’t yet had the full time to look through. Final exams are here, but once they are over I will dedicate many a bored late night to reading the thoughts of my fellow WordPressers and I would love to do a post dedicated to the ones I adore. Pinky swear.

Best,

Awkward Girl

 

 

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