stan

I'm almost 24 years old and I still have giggly fun conversations with my girlfriends about boys  ... one of which happened last night. The conversation went from current boy stories to boy stories of years past, and I hung up the phone with a cramp in my side from laughing so hard.

If I could describe middle school in one word it would be .... boys. 

I had like 15 crushes and one boyfriend, my first boyfriend actually ... good ole Clay Shumate ... or Pot Shoebox as my friends and I nicknamed him. 

Three out of the 15 crushes were super super intense ... but one in particular stands out as absolutely ridiculously funny and worthy of the blog. 

I was in eighth grade and his name was Stan. He and I had never spoken two words to each other but I was "so completely head over heels in love with him". We had all the same classes together and were in choir together for three years. 

This is how pathetic I was ... I made a pro/con list in my diary of "REASONS WHY HE MAY OR MAY NOT LIKE ME"....On the pro list, I included the fact that his mother was my chaperone on our choir trip to Gatlinburg one year ... I had convinced myself that his mother personally choose me to go in her group as the request of her son. Absolutely pathetic. (I'm swallowing my laughter in this office as I type this out, by the way).

But it gets even worse.

My friend Catherine Honeycutt went to the Christmas dance with him and I requested printed out pictures of the two of them (as if that isn't weird enough). I cut her out of all the pictures. I would then tape together his cutout next to a picture of me and go about my life pretending that we were a couple. 

Yeah. This is probably a great explanation for why I had like two friends all throughout high school. I was the definition of pathetic loser. 

We never ended up speaking to each other even though we shared the same school for the next four years. 

Don't worry. I'm making up for my loserness ... I made pumpkin bread last night and watched Breaking Bad with my mom. 

sketch

It's become a joke at work. 

All the sketchball companies, all the 1-800 numbers, all the telemarketing people .... they want me. They want me to come work for them. 

But it's really true though. 

We all remember the Sam's Club interview ... where I was wanted to sell water bean bags. Yeah, that was a bad experience. 

 This isn't quite as bad as that ... but it's not far behind.  

All I want is really want to be hired by a legitimate company with a position in the Advertising/Marketing/Public Relations field. A company that has a TON of cars in the parking lot because it's that awesome.

I have no problems fighting for it. I keep telling myself that this "fight" for a job will be well worth it in the end with a wonderful super successful company.

Until then ... I'm having a blast at the Mountain Brook Chamber. As awesome as getting a job will be, I will really miss going there everyday.

Go Spartans.