This is What Happens When I Blog Past My Bedtime

Today I saw him again.  You know, him.  HIM.  Ri-i-i-ight.  And I was definitely going to say “hi” this time.  Really.  I did alright a couple days ago!  Sure, I sounded like a strangled fish, but at least I managed to articulate actual words.  But when I saw him today while I was walking to class, we were separated by this huge group of people.  A huge group, like almost five people.  And what must be understood is that every time I see this guy, I can’t breathe, and my skin goes cold, and my hands start shaking (I figure I either have walking pneumonia again or I'm crushing hard).  So given the circumstances, it’s hardly a surprise that I have trouble speaking to him, let alone yelling to him across a fearsome fivesome. 

The sad truth is if this guy even remembers I exist, he probably thinks I’m a total spaz with a lung condition.  Every time I talk to him I get nervous, which ratchets up my spaziness, which makes me even more nervous.  It’s a vicious cycle of spaz.  I also feel like I’ve just been punched in the stomach every time I gaze on his all-encompassing gloriousness (that’s a real word, by the way.  Look it up) complete with Heath Ledger smile, so I kind of wheeze when I talk. 

I just love him.  You know, whatever.  It’s fine.

But who would want to date a spaz-a-tron or a magnificent wheeze?  No one, that’s who.  At least I know what my name will be if I ever become a super-hero: The Magnificent Wheezing Spaz-a-Tron.  Or maybe I should stick with magnificent wheeze.  It’s snappier, yes?  I’ll be like batman, except when I talk it won’t sound like I’m gargling marbles.  (zing!)

Eh, love’s overrated anyway.  Besides, there’s so many other wonderful things to love in this world.  Disneyland, for example.  The other day I wrote a rap about Disneyland.  It’s pretty neat.  I’d post it, but it’s still a working progress.  It’s going to get better…

I also love cheese.  Today I went grocery shopping and I bought string cheese, macaroni and cheese, cottage cheese, and a can of easy cheese.  I wish I was joking.

And now I am starting to ramble.  It is time to kill the beast before it gains control of the master.  And so my friends, adieu.

(P. S. – This is for you, Brianna!  Love you!)