OK, so I kept my promise. I was a cool kid: very laid-back, very suave. I would see Humbug and actually go and talk to him instead of hyperventilating or running away. Even in English where I am forced to sit behind him and a ridiculously pretty girl, I am able to keep my cool and not see her as a (massive) threat.
Life was so lalalalalalalalalala. I was singing the HAPPY songs of Taylor Swift (and everybody loves a bit o' "State of Grace" and "Stay Stay Stay"...!).
Then last night it was my friend's birthday party.
I got ready with some friends, wearing a creme dress which was so tight that I realised breathing was no longer an option, and a bra that was so tight that I felt like it was velcro-d onto me (but, alas, my boobs still looked the size of golf balls).
Then I got to the party, having already downed half of my Sourz within 15 minutes. I proceeded swiftly and idiotically towards beer and cider.
Then I naturally vommed in the toilets because I put the ass in class.
Having vommed and cleaned my mouth out and eaten my body weight in popcorn, I started talking to Humbug. And one thing led to another and...
Yes, we kissed.
Now, I won't lie: the kissing is gooooood. As in, I'm seriously contemplating entering us in to the Olympics of Kissing because we would win gold. We connect fantabulously on a physical level but...
I'm probably being a goof but I'm not sure we have enough in common.
Nope, scratch that: we have nothing in common! He's laid back and I'm as neurotic as a rocket scientist on speed. He's sciencey and I'm basically an immature, clumsy and un-classy Jane Austen (OK, the only parallel between me and her is that we both like reading).
And our conversation is sometimes confusing because I don't think he understands/appreciates my wacky sense of humour. I feel like this is a guy who tolerates my weirdness instead of liking me for it.
And now tonight there is another party and Curly Haired Guy will be there (the ex) and he will be charming and will make it clear that he loved me and then I will regret my life choices and be tempted by this manipulative knobhead to go back to his lying ass.
So, all in all, we are in a pickle.
But then part of me reckons I may just be over-analysing as per! Maybe I'm just looking for reasons I shouldn't be with Humbug because I don't like committment...
Hmmmmmm....hard to tell. I feel like we both really like each other but I'm not sure if we mesh well...
But I do really like him! And he's a goofy drunk like me, so we were Drunk Skunk Dancing which was amoosing :L
Anyways, I really must dash and do this English essay. I'm considering not going to the party tonight because I genuinely miss my nights in with my post-its. Social siberia was actually super-fun compared to being in Andover (hungover) and not being able to work. As a workaholic I need to work. Need. Necessity.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx