I forgot how much I like blogging about boys

My stories these days are funnier than they were a year ago and MUCH more G-rated. Forgive my previous promiscuity.

Story #1... From the mouth of a stranger.

I was walking down the hall to TV/Video Production a week or two ago feeling a little down on my appearance that day. I know, I know, beauty is only skin deep... a piece of wisdom, ladies... beauty might only be skin-deep, but ugly goes CLEAR TO THE BONE. It was amid this less-than-beautiful day that I heard the words "I love you" come from a young man near me. I didn't think he was talking to me. I looked over. Oh. He was talking to me. I gave him the most quizzical of all quizzical looks and paused. "And you look beautiful today," he quickly added. My quizzical look broke into a genuine, relieved smile. "Thank you!" I said gratefully. I walked into TV/Video Production feeling more confident than before. I'm telling you, it doesn't matter if it's a complete stranger. The words "I love you" and "you look beautiful" are the keys to success.

Story #2... I have a stalker.

He's half Mexican, half Italian. Racism aside, it's like a drug lord met the Mafia. I met him about a week ago at the school where I'm taking my medical assisting class. It started as a simple conversation. He was taking the EMT class with a friend of mine who sometimes comes into my classroom. I was helping them study for a test being my usual charming self. Maybe I should have been more alert on stalker-watch, but do I really have to act less charming to protect myself from the possible advances of stalkers? He didn't even seem to have stalker potential at first. I became suspicious for the first time when he used to words "Euphoria" to describe meeting me. I felt like I missed something important. He had my number. (Yes, I gave it to him. I thought he was a friend of a friend, OK?)

The next day, he was texting me asking when we were going to hang out. I explained that I had class that night (like most nights) until 9, plus a ton of homework, plus school early the next day. He replied with, "I was thinking about 8." I didn't bother texting him back. He had NO REASON to be at the school that night, but around 8, he wandered into my classroom. He asked me when I'd be done. "Um... I had an hour left of class." He sat next to me and TALKED TO ME while I tried to study for an hour. I told him I had homework. I said maybe we should do something another day. My subtle hints weren't getting through. When I went out to my car to leave, he followed me a little bit, then stayed at the curb. I started pulling out and he walked right up to my car. I assumed I'd forgotten something. I tried to roll down my window, but it was iced over. I put my car in park, which automatically unlocks the door. HE OPENED THE DOOR, SAT DOWN, AND ASKED, "So where are we going?"

Usually I'm really good in situations like that. Usually I would have the sense to tell him to get out of my car, I was going home. But I froze. I don't know that I've ever been so scared in my life of another person (with a few exceptions). I decided to play it cool, a tactic Peyton failed so miserably at when dealing with her stalker in One Tree Hill. "Well," I said smoothly, "I have to go grocery shopping." (LIE.) So I drove to Albertson's. There were a million questions in my head. Was I supposed to give him a ride home? Did he misunderstand the words "I have so much homework?" If THAT didn't deter him, shouldn't "I'm 17 and in high school," have done the trick? In Albertson's, I bought exactly one apple and a 3-hole punch. He wanted to know where we were going next. He suggested we go to Burger King to talk. I don't have ANY idea what he was thinking. Burger King's environment is not conducive to the wooing he might have deluded himself into believing he was doing. It was nearly closing. He didn't even buy any food. Instead, he chose a table in the back corner and told me about his job at the auto shop, his favorite video games, the car accident he got into a few month back. Then the cherry on top. He told me that I was the only person he talked to.

Oh. My. Stars. The warning bells were going crazy. I wanted to use an excuse, but my mind was blank. He already knew I didn't live at home and never had a curfew. I had nothing to tell this guy who apparently hadn't spoken to another human being in years and fell in love with the first girl to talk to him. I can decipher between lonely and just straight-up creepy, and this guy was just straight-up creepy. I was so scared, an emotion I feel rarely. Finally he agreed to leave Burger King, but wanted to keep driving around. It was thankfully only a minute or two later that my 12 year-old pseudosister EAS (those of you who know my living situation understand who I'm talking about) called me to find out where I was and when I'd be home. We have a code that means "Tell me to come home." When we say the weather is bad, it means get me out of here. If it's good, it means that we're having a good time.

EAS: Who are you with?

CC: A friend... But the weather is bad. Or, at least the roads are.

EAS: *blank expression. obviously didn't catch on.* So... when are you going to be home?

CC: I don't know, when do you want me home? (A little more forcefully that time.)

EAS: Let me ask my mom... (MOOOOOM! When do you want CC home?)...... She says she wants you home now since you were up all night.

CC: Oh I'm so sorry! I'll be there as soon as possible!

Can I just say that my pseudomom has NEVER enforced a curfew on me EVER? I was so grateful I started LAUGHING after I dropped Stalker off at his car. There's so much more creepiness. Unsettling texts. Incessant phone calls. I feel a little cautious all the time. Now I'm about to head off to my class hoping he's not WAITING FOR ME IN THE PARKING LOT (which he would TOTALLY do). Seriously, I don't know what to tell him. I said I liked someone else. His response? "I'm going to keep bugging you anyway because I like you." There is determination, and there is obsession. He crossed the line.

Story #3... Yet another confession of love. I must make one hell of an impression.

I had been left at church by my usually-chaotic pseduofamily on Sunday (yesterday). I had no ride, so I was mingling with a woman I knew for thirty minutes hoping she'd offer me a ride. A guy I know from school (who I've spoken to a grand total of five times counting today) heard me say I had no ride. We'll call him Shawn Jeltzer for the sake of the story. He offered me a ride. I gladly accepted. The snow was a foot deep outside and I didn't want to walk. There was small talk exchanged in the car until out of the blue, he threw out "I sort of have a crush on you." And I'm feeling like the conversation just went, "Yeah I liked my sixth grade teacher too, and I don't play basketball very well, and I had math with him last year, and I sort of have a crush on you, and I love snow too, and..." My tried and true reaction to such a statement? "You're a sweetheart. Well, this is where I live! Thanks for the ride!"

Boys are ridiculous. That is all.