Haven’t done one of these installments in a long while. This one is long — for me — and mind-numbingly stupid. Colossally retarded. I am literally agape at the horror of it. The time frame is around the same time as this one. I think I’m about 19, but in stunted, sheltered Baptist years, that’s basically 12 or 13 years old mentally and emotionally.
Oh, and to avoid confusion, S is my sister. SM is my brother. Hey, I didn’t name them.
Okay. PRRO-ceed.
August 18
Last night at Bible study was interesante. (Yes, you took Spanish in high school — muy bien, chica.) Kirk was standing out front with RH (another fellow that I did not happen to be in love with — at the moment) when I arrived and RH extended a “very warm welcome” to me as all good CABC interns do. Kirk simply smiled at me. (And yet somehow as this entry goes along, I seem to be interpreting that smile as a “Hey, baby, let’s get married” kind of smile. You know, those.) Later, they sat 2 rows in front and over to the left of S and me. So I had plenty of opportunities to “check it out” which I of course made good use of.
After the Bible study — which was pretty POOR!! — Kirk BOLTED from his seat and when I finally got far enough out into the mob, I was able to see that he was situated over by the main entrance. Hmm … (Hmm, indeed, Trace.) I went over and talked to SM and Kirk came over and joked around with bozo (SM).
SM asked if he was going to the beach party and he kinda smiled, looked at me, said “yes” and proceeded to mosey off to the left.
(Be prepared. In case you haven’t already noticed, I spend this entire entry basically GPS-ing this guy’s whereabouts. Nothing actually even happens, but I’m still howling over all the niggling stage details of the evening.)
I went over to talk with S and Mark the Sailor which gave me a better vantage point to spy. We were at opposite diagonals in the room (Good. LORD. Tracey.) A few moments later, he moseyed (again??) over in direction and chatted with this girl about 3 ft. away. I was looking right at him because he was being funny, but he wandered off — AGAIN!! By this time frustration is PARAMOUNT! MORE LATER!
(Okay, peeps. I honestly don’t know what the hell this whole thing is about. It would seem, basically, that I am stalking a guy at church, like a good Baptist chippie, having convinced myself that smiles and looks and funny conversation with, uhm, another girl 3 feet away all mean that he loves me, too! Oh, and after the “MORE LATER,” the entry just continues, no space, same pen. I have no idea what the “MORE LATER” was all about then. Golly, my frustration is paramount.)
So anyhow, I went outside and made a phone call to T (friend) at work. Kirk was outside chatting w/ some people so I could spy fairly easily. Later, I went back in to say bye to S and he was sitting there on the DESK! I was then accosted by some guy named Rick w/ whom I really did not wish to speak. (Prime example of good grammar making you sound like a total ASS.) While we were chatting, Kirk walked past to our right, then around the corner and out of view again to our left. I simply assumed he was gone. Anyhow, I moved away from this Rick entity (Yes, please, “entity,” get out of the way of me and my life’s soulmate) and ended up walking out the door at practically the same moment as Kirk! He had a gym bag in hand and I merely assumed he was going to v-ball. He started off in that direction, I toward my car. He stopped and (did he move to the left or to the right or maybe he moseyed, Trace? I cannot WAIT to hear!) it was on the tip of my tongue to say something. Then he started again and I walked to my car — colossally depressed. (And who wouldn’t be? So crushing, you poor baby.)
Later (and this is the big payoff, peeps — get ready for it — please be calm) — I discover that when I had gone to make the call, Kirk came back in and — according to S — was “checking it out” a few feet away from her!
(Do you hear that, people?? He was “checking it out.” Mannn! I shoulda married him! I mean, after all, he was “checking it out” and that is, my friends, evvvverything!!)
Okay. Please excuse me. I must leave you now to nurse my colossal depression over the crushing ramifications of this entire post.
This SO reminds me of Sunday youth choir practice and youth group.
Youth is so painful.
“basically GPS-ing this guy’s whereabouts” – ICWL!!
Sue Bob- wouldn’t be that age again for the Texas Lottery.
In the play I’m costuming, there is a devilishly handsome, super-cool nineteen y.o. guy. The older girls, ie. fourteen or so, and even the fifth grader, are out there in the hall between scenes, feverishly competing for his attention.
The older ones are doing it in a too cool for school kinda way, but feverish all the same.
I’m waiting for one of them to spontaneously combust.
The complete inanity of their conversation makes me want to bolt from the building – like I don’t have a raft of the same in my past…
Youth…(sigh)
Tracey – I am crying with laughter about the “GPS-ing” line!! This is SO INSANE. You sound like a LUNATIC and i totally relate.
It’s really quite stunning. If I were to transcribe some of my diary entries from same age time frame, it might actually scare you. Is it possible we share a brain? Perhaps our mothers have something to tell us? (no,wait, we don’t look anything alike.)
I didn’t have a diary in “those days”, but I can so relate to this. I remember “GPS-ing” this one particular guy at every event possible. I’m sure I was ALL stealth and sneak…and I’m equally sure he NEVER wondered why I was always everywhere he was.
Returning from the food stand at the football game…oh there I was waiting in line! When he exited the men’s room…oh there I was tying my shoe right outside the door. And so on. I was sooooo subtle.
And the analysis of and subsequent assignment of significance to every flippin’ little thing. “You know that last time, when he almost tripped over me when he was leaving the coach’s office…I SWEAR he looked right at me…AND he actually smiled. I think if we had a few more seconds together, he was going to ask me to the prom. I am SERIOUS!”
Ugh! The memory of my stupidity is still too painful to bear. What an ASS!
I think this entry probably happened to just about every single freshman girl at the teeny-tiny conservation RC college I went to. Especially the “‘hey, baby, let’s get married’ smile”–how do our crush-addled teenage brains manufacture that sort of hallucination?
“Conservation”? I meant “conservative”! I think after 4+ years, my fingers are officially programmed to type legalese. Sheesh.
We were all hopeless, it seems — ALL GPS-ing our potential soulmates! Total loons! Hahahahaha!