let's take me off the pedestal for a moment and talk about how awkward i can be.

i went to target in my hometown today to browse. what else would i do there, buy something? as if. (i am such a cheap-ass these days.) so i'm looking at these really bitchin' gaucho pants that i'm actually considering buying, when all of a sudden someone walks straight into me. being the self-righteous bitch that i am, i was ready to give them what for, when i realized that it was a boy that i had a crush on in jr. high. whilest apologizing, he stared at me, trying to figure out if it was really me and not some stunning brunette look-alike. (i was really awkward-looking for the majority of my schooling... plus i was fat. and blonde.) i kind of smiled to alert him to the fact that, yes, it was me, and yes, i'm a total babe now.

he gave me a clumsy hug and we chatted for a moment. "duluth, huh? i'll bet that's cold," he said. long pause. "minneapolis, huh? i'll bet that's big," i replied. long pause. "journalism, eh? you've got to be well-read for that job," he said. long pause. "accounting, eh? you've got to be smart for that job," i replied. long pause. "you still play guitar? you've done that for awhile," he said. long pause. "you still wear our high school colors? you've worn our high school colors for awhile," i said. long pause. the uncomfortable silences and the abysmal conversation were physically painful. i suddenly wanted to hang myself with the gaucho pants.

he finally decided to spare us both the awful few minutes that were sure to follow and end the conversation with a "well, i should really go find 'herbie: fully loaded.'" i made some kind of sound that could pass for the language that i'm sure aliens speak, and he began to go on his way. i turned away, replaying everything that i had just said over in my head. way to bring up the school colors, i thought. i'm sure that dazzled him with your superior wit, dumbass.

"hey!" he called out after me. i turned around. what could he want? my number? a date? to go fool around in the fitting rooms? i was sure that it was one of the three.

"yes?" i asked, batting my eyelashes.

"you forgot your cart," he said, pointing to the ground. i made this chuckling sound while i said "oh," which combined to make a godawful gutteral noise. i picked up the red basket, smiled, and walked right into a rack of pea coats. i tried to laugh it off, but i was so busy trying to figure out whether or not he saw it that i tripped over a shelf of pants and ended up lying on my face in the middle of the clothing section of target.

i just shouldn't talk to people. i saw edie falco in new york city and freaked her out. felix probably thinks i'm a crazy stalker. and every time i see al sparhawk, i stop breathing and have issues forming complete sentences. maybe i just need a chaperone. you can email me your applications.