is what I told Marie two nights ago. And I sincerely meant it.
But then I was like, "Wait."
I mean, have I told you about the time I was taking a nap on my couch and I woke up to this amazingly handsome man with Prince Eric's looks and Aaron Tveit's hair who Peter Panned himself through my window and made me kiss him? I had no choice in the matter.
I promised Kate I would write her a post, because now she is a grownup with a grownup job, and she is so bored sometimes that she needs to read something from me.
As if I were interesting. I forgot I had a blog for a while there. There just hasn't been much to say.
But I can try.
Since the last time I wrote....
I've had a couple of these:
Went to a few of these:
Went here three times:
Played with this toddler (she's the one with black hair):
Was in my cousin's wedding:
Hung out with these people:
Got my:
(Yes. One of the boys above.
Dating is so weird and confusing. Why do people do it?)
How I felt right after it happened:
"Does he...know that you are a first-time slammer?"
Dear Triple C,
Thanks for the heart-to-heart over In N Out. It's nice to know mine isn't the only messed up family. And it's nice to have a conversation that isn't all sarcasm and television quotes.
Love,
Chess
Dear Latecomers,
Yeah, my coworker heard you. What, so "some women" don't flirt back with you because they're exhausted, and you came in while she was trying clean and shut down her end of the restaurant, so you don't leave her a tip? Newsflash: You. Weren't. Cute.
Spitting in your drink,
Your exemplary waitress
Dear JJ,
K and I, we be gettin' all snoopy up in your love life. We decided it's been way too long since you were a combo.
Love,
"Girl Talk"ers
You-Know-Who-You-Are,
I'd call you "Dear," but you all ruined, ruined, my Fourth of July. I want to cry some more just thinking about it.
Distressed and needing better friends,
Mistreated
Dear Bank Boy,
Ohhh. So now we can text instead of forever Facebook messaging one another?
Intrigued,
Margaret
Dear David,
Today we gather to celebrate your life and mourn your loss. Twenty-three years was not long enough for the whole world's hearts be touched by your joyous smiles and warm embraces. But you have changed so many lives that I know yours has been a beautiful success. Rest in peace, my friend, and God be with you until we meet again.
And so much more quickly than the last time. Pretty much in near-rockin' shape so I got my booty to the top of the mountain in so much less time than last year.
And my beautiful Suzie-friend came along.
So much bromance, so little time.
I thought this would be an adorable picture of me and my handsome friends...
....but my presence is clearly ruining the moment, so this is what is right...
Dear Ryan-at-IHOP,
Yes, the first few days of serving are the worst, but you were lucky to have me for a customer. Don't be so scared. Most people are very understanding. :-)
A fellow server
Dear Brentacle,
On the unlikely day I win at Words with Friends, well, you owe me something awesome. Like glory. Not Yu-gi-oh glory. The real kind. Like twenty bucks.
Speedy Snarks
Dear YSB,
You kinda made it seem like something might happen, but nothing has, and I keep hearing things that are making me sad. I'm done.
G'bye,
YSG
Dear Noble and Lancelot,
So excited to rip Breaking Dawn Pt. 1 to shreds with you guys. It's been too long since we destroyed Eclipse.
Twilightfully yours,
Chess
Dear Bank Boy,
You still be cute. I know you gots a girl on a mish, but we should hang out. Maybe you could come to my birthday party?
I asked Mr. Cute Cook why WHY he (and his cousin) had to keep jabbing my sides and making me jump?!! Was there a conspiracy? Apparently not. Well, then how did they just both manage to alternately terrify me throughout the night?
"It's your fault! If there's anything about your aura--" (traces my outline in the air with his hands), "--that says, 'SCARE ME,' it's all of it."
Dear Red M&M,
I wrote a really gorgeous poem about you two and half years ago. I reread it and it needs to be rewritten.
Later!
Totes over you.
Dear Cute C. the Cook,
YSB's back. But you are still my eye candy at work.
Wink,
Your coworker.
Other cook,
Why are you smiling at me all of a sudden?!
Warily yours,
Chess
Dear Teller,
I have two transactions to make today. One to savings and one to checking. Maybe I'll come inside and we can make seven people wait behind me again while we chat? :)
Sincerely,
Chess
Dear Tenants of 2 Frat 2 Furious,
You all ruined my New Year's Eve.
Annoyed (but still your seemingly only female friend),
Chester
Dear Yummy Smelling Boy,
I've a mad crush on you, still. It would be swell if you felt the same way. You should let me know. :)
I have a nerd bone, guys. It's like a funny bone, but way more sensitive.
Sometimes I get crushes on boys. Mostly because they're cute. So I grin goofily at them because they don't know I think they're cute, and one day, they'll show up wearing glasses cos they lost their contacts, or it's allergy season, or they woke up late and their hair is all messy, and my nerd bone will go ping! Suddenly, they look all cute AND smart, which makes me go numb from head to toe on my left side.
Or is that a heart attack?
Maybe my heart IS my nerd bone.
I can only conclude that it is all Billy the Blue Power Ranger's fault.
Do you have an "[insert noun/adjective]" bone?
Next up: my issues with the color pink, playing an Asian, and long hair on boys.
Is it because I hate no-shave November? Because he had some scruff. But that's the least of the problems with this dream.
First, I've never made out with anyone. How do I know I was doing it right? More importantly, am I even cute enough to be worth making out with? (Yeesh, how many prepositions did I just dangle?)
Second. He was no cook I've ever seen at work. I know this because he was good-lookin'.
Third. If he was a cook, then why didn't he bring me a takeout box?!!!
Kate and I hung out with the boizzzz two Saturdays ago. We went to my hometown because our friends invited us to go on the annual Squaw Peak hike. I'm really glad she came with me, because if she hadn't, true to fashion, I would've been the one female swimming in a sea of snarky testosterone. And worse than that, the sole person at the back of the line.
We may have been horribly out of shape for that four mile plus a 3100+ foot gain hike. We may have been behind those boys by fifteen minutes. And they may or may not have thought that we'd never make it, but baby, we prevailed.
Despite that victory, mostly, I just wanted to say that I was wearing a t-shirt that said "True Aggies Bleed Blue" and one doofwad BYU hiker coming down shouted at me, "I bleed blue too, but it's the right blue."
Don't you worry. I put that jerk in his place with an extremely rude gesture.
That's right, folks. I blew a raspberry at him over my shoulder.
I am most positively certain that my first love was this man:
Gilbert Blythe, just in case you bumpkins missed the memo. Except I must clarify that I fell for Book!Gilbert Blythe long before I saw the movies. It's because of him that I absolutely must marry a boy who is book-nerdy, and mischievous, who laughs a lot and doesn't like run-of-the-mill girls, because I fancy myself not one of them. Smile.
Speaking of which, yesterday and today, I rewatched both of the Anne of Green Gables movies (not the third, I don't like it), and I am now rereading the entire series. Don't worry, I have already wept copious tears during my enjoyment of both medias.
It started my sophomore year when I finally started to love Aggie basketball, and then, in my junior year, he picked the seat next to me for an entire semester of political science. If the tall, shy, dark hair, and blue eyes combination wasn't lethal enough, he's a gentleman to boot. Words cannot possibly illustrate the celebrity crush I have on Matt Formisano. Especially since he's not a celebrity. It's kind of like the crush I have on Prince Eric.
One time, I had a conversation with him in class when we were both standing up, and afterwards, I walked away with a crick in the neck. That's what happens when you're five-two and he's six-eight.
Hehehe. You get to hear my voice for the first time, I think.
Guh-ross!
Like the pathetic fangirl I am, I wanted a picture with him after storming the court, but I was too embarrassed to go up to him and ask. He was signing little kids' basketballs and T-shirts and being noble and stuff.
it would've been awesome. Because on Tuesday, I watched Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion with my old roommate, Abbie, then I spent the afternoon with Jake and Alex at Texas Roadhouse, and, after that, I went ice-skating with Alex. Best Tuesday ever.
But Wednesday wasn't Tuesday. It was pretty good though.
My buddy Garrett asked me to go to a Baxter Black show with him up in Preston, ID which is about a forty-minute drive from where I live. I had to Google him. He's a cowboy poet. Who even knew?
We headed to Preston High School because it was a show put on by the FFA (Future Farmers of America). This organization is HUGE there. Huge. I got inside and realized with delight that I had just walked into the real-life set of Napoleon Dynamite.
Garrett: Mr. Black, could I get a picture with you? Baxter Black: Only if I can find a bucket to stand on.
That Mr. Black was an utter charmer when he greeted me. He was just lovely. I was almost smitten. Despite the fact that his mouth was completely hidden by that horrendous mustache. During the show he had to blow it out of the way with a puff of air so he could drink out of his water bottle. Please enjoy one of the last poems he performed that night:
After the show, I had to use the restroom, and, while I'm seated on the can, what should meet me at eye-level but the best bit of advertising I have ever seen?
And then, of course, I needed a picture of myself in the hallway:
That's not me.
Oh yeah. Totes the same lockers!!
Then we went back to Logan and straight to dancing, and it all went downhill from there. See, if you're a member of the country swing club and you're one of the first 75 there, then you get in free. We didn't get there in time for that, but Garrett, who gets in free anyway because he is in the club presidency, flashes his ID and... leaves me behind to pay for myself! I shrugged it off, because I'm nice like that.
Dancing was fine, but around midnight, I realized that Garrett was missing. I asked Sophia (Clark's girlfriend) where he was, and she said that he had left the same time as the girl he's been having drama with. I knew all about that, because these boys tell me everything, but I was shocked he hadn't at least said something to me. "Did he LEAVE you?" she exclaimed. I found Adam, Garrett's roommate, and asked him where Garrett had gone, and he couldn't see him anywhere, and he bellowed, "What the hell?! Did he leave you? You were basically on a date!!"
That's Adam. 400 pounds of awesome.
And that's me. A few pounds less of awesome.
Sophia shrieked, "A date?"
"Sorta. Not really. A friend-date?"
"Whatever! Text him right now, that jerk!"
Just as I started typing, Garrett called me, "Uh...so I got in the car and realized I was missing someone. Do you want me to come get you, or do you want to stay longer?" Adam was making slashing motions across his throat, telling me he would take me home, so I just told Garrett that I'd catch a ride home. I was laughing it off, pretending it was funny, but after I hung up, I got so angry and annoyed.
There is no romantic interest between us whatsoever, but I can't believe it. I'd never forget somebody I brought! Even if I was feeling awkward and wanted to leave because of somebody else, I'd at least find my sorta-date and ask if he wanted to leave, and if he wanted to stay, I'd do him the decency of finding him a ride home. Not to mention I would've paid for him to get in, especially when it was my fault he couldn't get there early in the first place!
Adam was so riled up on my behalf, he told me he'd finish the date that Garrett didn't, and that we were going out for ice-cream afterwards. Course, the only place that was open at one in the morning was McDonald's, but he bought us got vanilla cones and some fries, and then we sat in his car outside my house eating them and talking for another hour. He was telling me about this girl he wants to ask out, and then immediately apologized for talking about other girls on our "date." I told him this was a friend-date, and of course, we must discuss the boys and girls we are interested in!
"So Chess, are there any guys in your life?"
"A ton." It's true. When I'm not at my apartment, I'm at Clark, Garrett, Adam, and Andy's apartment. If I'm not with them, I'm with Jake and Alex and their roommates at their house. Or I'm with all of those boys at church. But no romantic prospects. So Adam and I just kept talking about him. Haha. He walked me to my door, gave me a hug, and made sure I got inside after promising me he'd have some choice words for his roommate in the morning.
Garrett told me the next morning that he called me "because I remembered. I was just outside!" I don't believe him. He was gone way too long for him to be just outside. He forgot me. And I told him so. He asked me if Adam had told me to say that. I told him that I was perfectly capable of figuring that out myself. Urgh. I'm sure I'll be over it by Monday.
The moral of Wednesday night: Friend dates can be awesome. Some friends can be crappy. Others can be fantastic. Keep the fantastic ones! And tell the crappy ones off.
That she caught the very tall, muscular, good-looking man at the church dance staring at me last night.
Like, at multiple instances. If she weren't my mom, I wouldn't trust her observations at all. But when she was younger, she and her best friend joined a karate class, just because she'd be one of two girls in a crowd of army men. She's a self-proclaimed Boy Scout, you know. That's a direct quote.
My friend Clark (background story here and here) and I are both from Orem. If he weren't so extremely good-looking and slightly cocky, I might be in love with him. As it is, we are just really, really good buddies.
Let me tell you how we were brought even closer together. See, it was fall break this weekend, so I hitched a ride home to Orem and back to Logan with Clarkers. Clark likes to talk. I like to talk. There's never a dull moment and always an educational adventure when you spend time with this boy.
Things I learned: -- A few off-color jokes -- What guys really consider in relationships (in particular, he likes a girl who has had to work in order to pay for what she wants, and doesn't spend all of it shopping) -- A tooth implant or something can be really expensive -- I'm known as "the short girl" at the Fun Park (where we go dancing every week) -- Clark's and my dancing is "inspiring" -- Those last two were told to Clark by some goofy guy at the Fun Park, who also told him he was "dreamy" --It is never not cool to belt along to Savage Garden. Truly, madly, deeply. -- Most importantly, the Backstreet Boys are totes better than *NSYNC
And how.
See, what happened was the first bars of "As Long As You Love Me" started floating out of the radio, and sharp, excited intakes of breath from Clark and me.
Transcript of conversation over duration of song:
Clark: I LOVE this song!! Chess: I know!! I haven't heard it in ages! Clark: (turns up the volume) I'm warning you. I'm singing every word. Chess: Psh. Whatever, man. I was totally planning on it! Clark: Ready?
Clark and Chessie proceed to BELT out every. single. word. With frightening accuracy.
Chess: Are we really doing this? Clark: Oh. This is happening.
During instrumental interval...
Clark: This was the first CD I bought in the seventh grade! Chess: I know! It's the coolest!
In-depth discussion of BSB members, all by name: Kevin, A.J., Brian, and Nick.
Song resumes, and so does the belting. Failed attempts to do runs. Song ends.
Chess: *NSYNC sucked. Clark: Total crap compared to these guys. Except for "Bye Bye Bye."
Off-key rendition of "Bye Bye Bye."
Chess: Did you ever see the music video? Clark: Not that one, but I remember that one where they're coming off the plane and all singing in the crowd. Oh yeah. Chess: We are so cool.
Restaurant boy who was crushing on me texted me the other night (must've got my number off the employee list). He hasn't forgotten about me. Oh dear. I have a bad feeling I'm gonna have to hurt his feelings sometime soon. Not only that, I'll have to do it in Spanish. In not-so-good Spanish. What would it be like to be gently rejected in your own language, by a girl who doesn't have a good handle on it anymore? How terrible!
I mean, I was temporarily flattered for just a minute when I first found out about it, but I was LEAVING. I have LEFT. I am GONE. I'm not planning on ever really going back.
I'm in my beloved self-proclaimed hometown with YSB in my class every other day and living just around the corner. Not to mention tall, dark, and handsome Blue-Green Eyes, whom I was teaching to dance (in my break between classes, I go help teach beginning country swing), who happens to be YSB's roommate this year. I've had a little simultaneous crush on both those boys since we had almost all of our classes together this last spring, so I can't help harboring a tiny hope that maybe this fall something will happen with either one of them. I'm a girl who loves a good crush. Sue me.
So there is no room to be trying to avoid the shy flirtations of a boy in a restaurant that I really don't plan on returning to work for (except possibly over Christmas break). It would be hard to even try to be friends. I'm hoping he doesn't text me anymore, even though I told him he could (because he asked), because I'm nice and I don't know how to say no.
I know I can't get ahead of myself, because nothing has happened, but my mind has gone into overdrive, seeing all the ways I have gotten/will get myself into trouble and now must think of all the different possible ways of getting out of it. And based on past experience, trying to get out of trouble and making peace only ever made things worse.
