I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been kind of crabby the last few days. I think it’s a combination of the suffering I’m feeling at the hands of my asthma symptoms and my lack of sleep due to the prednisone I’m taking to cure those asthma symptoms. It’s just a big, vicious cycle. So rather than listening to (or reading about, as the case may be) me bitch about anything else (although, why the heck do I have to keep reseting my password to log in to Wordpress ever since I upgraded to 2.6?), I’ll just share a story about when I was young and confident and not-bitchy. So here goes.

When I was a freshman in high school I was far from brave. I was a shy girl, too scared to look at a boy let alone ask one out on a date. But there was this really cute senior I was completely infatuated with. Not just any senior, but a popular senior. A popular senior with a cute, popular girlfriend. In fact at one of the end-of-the-year pep rallies they were voted cutest couple (or something equally as syrupy sweet).

But I was not deterred. I was a girl on a mission. An unbelievably ridiculous mission where dorky little freshman girls with tortoise shell glasses and frizzy hair some how snatch up popular, football player seniors. But a mission nonetheless.

I started to stalk him. But I was sneaky about it. I figured out where his classes were and strategically place myself in his path every day. At first it was just so I could get a daily glimpse of him. But then I actually worked up the nerve to speak to him. I started with, “hi.” And he said, “hi” back. I was in heaven. Who knew a simple “hi” could be so exciting.

Eventually I moved up to more meaningful conversations. Things like, “I like your shirt.” Yep, I was quite the conversationalist back then. (Well really I still have conversations like that because I’m totally social awkward.)

One day I grew a pair of balls and decided to go in for the plunge. I met him at his locker and asked him if I could have one of his senior pictures. And he said yes. He didn’t write anything on the back of it like many people did. Stuff like, “It was great to get to know you. Have a great summer.” But I didn’t care. I had a picture of him. A picture I could keep under my pillow. And kiss goodnight. Um, did I just say that out loud?

By the end of the school year we were on a first name basis. Not a relationship, but at least he knew my name. When he saw me he would smile and say, “Hi Christine.” That was all I needed. I was weak in the knees. My life was good.

A group of the popular kids (including my new popular boyfriend acquaintance Mark) were having a graduation party in the cafeteria at a local college. And MARK INVITED ME! I was thrilled. I was beyond thrilled. I’m pretty sure I almost peed my pants (although I’m sure he would have revoked my invitation if I had peed on him).

My friend, Rachel (who had a huge crush on Mark’s friend, Jeremy), and I got all dolled up for the graduation party and…had our parents drop us off. (What? We were freshman remember.) I was so nervous I’m surprised my shirt didn’t form ten inch radius pit stains. Rachel and I mingled for a while. And by mingle I mean we stood by the window gripping our cups for dear life like scared little nerds at the school dance.

Eventually I decided to get over myself and take the plunge. So I went to the bathroom. Because, just like wearing clean underwear in case you are in an accident, you should always pee before you attempt to make a total ass of yourself do something very brave.

When I got back from the bathroom I walked right up to Mark and asked him if he’d dance with me. Only it came out more of a squeak because my heart was beating right up my throat and bouncing on my tongue. So I had to repeat myself. But you know what? He said yes. And we danced.

It was a quick dance and I spent the whole time trying not to step on his toes or touch him in an inappropriate place. But it was a dance nonetheless.

And when the music ended I got really brave. All that hot, sweaty dancing (ok, so maybe I was the only one sweating) made me a brand new woman. I leaned in and said, “Maybe we can go out sometime?” He looked at me, wrapped his arm around me and replied, “Absolutely. What’s your number?”

And then I dropped dead on the floor and floated to heaven with a big smile on my face. Ok, so maybe not, but close.

He never actually did call. And we never actually ever went on a date (obviously). But that didn’t matter. What matters is I had the nerve to ask a boy on a date. A popular senior boy. I may not be able to go to the grocery store by myself, but I can get up the nerve to ask a boy out (after a year of preparation).

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 at 11:49 pm and is filed under A day in our life. Comments are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.