Guest Feature: Patty Reed's Awkward Life

Patty (originally named Patricia) is the awesomest girl ever. Sometimes when I think of frogs, I'm reminded of her. She is super cool and loves eating potatoes and doing YoungLife and has a car and lives in Kent County, MD (the good Kent Co) and understands my passion/affair with John Deere. But she is not a hick. She is cool and appreciates culture...agriculture that is.

And here is her story.
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Hide and seek is an excellent game.  It’s a great source of fun for hours for people of all ages.  Seriously, my kudos to the person who came up with the idea.  However, this game can easily lead to some very awkward situations—like realizing you’ve been hiding for a while and no one is actually looking for you or having to sit by yourself in tight spaces for long periods of time.  This particular story happens to involve both.

Recently, I was at an annual overnight conference for a ministry that I am a part of.  After the evening session on the first night, a few of us went into a large open ballroom in the center of the hotel to sit and talk before going off to sleep.  Now, this is a strange room because there is a large waterfall structure at the back of the room, against a large glass wall that looks over to the pool area, and the walls are covered with windows from the hotel rooms that are adjacent to the ballroom.  The room was set up with dozens of round tables and there were a few people sitting at one towards the middle of the room.  So, naturally, we chose a large table over on the far right so as to avoid interrupting the group already there. 

So we’ve been there talking for a solid 20 minutes by now, mostly about how weird it is that hotel rooms look out into the ballroom (I mean seriously, who needs that?), when we hear a muffled voice say “So I don’t mean to freak you out, but, ummmm, my friends and I are playing hide and seek annnnd, well I’ve been under here for a while.”  As this is happening we are all looking around in complete confusion until it dawns on us.  There is someone under the table.

So we lift up the tablecloth and sure enough, there’s a kid wearing thick, dark-framed, hipster glasses and skinny jeans sitting on the floor under the table.  Like I said, we’d been there for about 20 minutes when this all happens, and we didn’t see him crawl under there, so he had been there the entire time.  I’m actually pretty impressed we didn’t accidentally kick him in the face.  After a few minutes of keeping him concealed as a small group of his friends walked through the ballroom, he cautiously crawls out, ready to find a new spot.  We had learned by this time that his name was Matt and he was not at the same conference we were at, which meant a lot of our conversation (which had been about our ministry) probably sounded super weird to him.

But it doesn’t end there.  As he is standing next to our table planning his next course of action, he’s caught off guard by a group of his friends that entered the ballroom.  One of them says, “dude, where have you been?!”  A strange question since they’re playing hide and seek, right?  Matt answers that he’s been hiding of course and his friend retorts, “we’re not playing hide and seek we’re playing tag!”

There it was.  Not only had he been hiding under our table for the entirety of the time we were there, but he wasn’t even supposed to be hiding.  All in all, a pretty excellent dose of awkward.

Guest Feature: Sharon's Awkward Life

This next post is from my friend Sharon. Sharon plays the violin on an ancient fiddle and forgets her shoes. I met her freshman year- we both lived in the same dorm and had the same honors chemical engineering classes together.  And very shortly after meeting her, I was hearing the beginnings of this story unfold. Let me just say stories like these are why I have an awkward story blog.
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The summer following my freshman year of high school I worked away from home at a conference center. While living there I became really good friends with a few of the guys that were also working there. Being moderately tom-boyish and completely inept when it comes to ‘girl-talk’ and similar such things, I tend to find guys to be more pleasant company than girls (especially when you’re living in a cabin with about fifteen young teenage girls). For the purpose of this blog of awkwardness, I will focus on one of them. He was 18 that summer, I was 14, but we were mentally at about the same level so we got along well.

So summer came to a close and we went our separate ways. For the next half a year or so, he and I kept in touch via letters. The next summer comes along, and I return to work at the center, but he does not. Oh well, no big deal, another friend come and gone…

Now let’s fast-forward a few years… I’m now a freshman in college.

It’s my second weekend in the lovely state of Delaware, and I am trying out a church that my pastor from my previous church had recommended. It seems to be a lovely service and at the end of the service, I turn around to gather my stuff from the pew.. and BOOM there’s a familiar face sitting right behind me. It took me a minute to figure out where I knew him from, but then it clicked, I knew him from almost four years ago…

So, hey no big deal, a friend shows up again, cool peas. Right?

WRONG! Very quickly I discovered that while 18 year old me had changed a lot from 14 year old me, 22 year old him well… still acted like 14 year old me. Over the course of the next few weeks he quickly started trying to talk to me ALL the time: at church, posting on Facebook, on AIM (yeah instant messenger, how long has it been since you’ve used that?), etc…. Then next thing I know he’s telling me that not only did he like me back when I was 14 (ok 18 year old liking a 14 year old? kinda creepy) he still likes me and in his words ‘has never stopped’ liking me.

Um, excuse me… what? I’m sorry, but last time I checked I hadn’t talked to him in several years, so if I heard that correctly… you never stopped liking someone you had no reason to think you’d ever see again? That’s either a lie or creepy.

Seeing as he:

a.  doesn’t go by his real name on facebook, but instead by a character name from a story he’s writing

b. had taken to writing bizarre things to me in code from the game Final Fantasy ( In case you’re curious apparently ‘Syo dra cdync creha ibuh ouin vyla Meddma Uha’ means ‘May the stars shine upon your face Little One’ in Al Bhed… never having played Final Fantasy, I had to look it up)

c. has an obsession with knifes… not that I don’t like knives… but it does add points towards the creepy argument

d. still lives with his parents while working night shift… again, nothing wrong with living with parents or working at night, but when combined with other stuff just sets off warning bells of RUN AWAY

e. likes a girl way too young for him

… we’ll go with creepy…really creepy. Oh, and did I mention that I had a boyfriend at the time, and  that he knew I had a boyfriend? Anyway, I politely turned him down. Great, this should be end of story, guy gets his heart broken, he’ll get over it and move on.

Fast-forward again to Junior year of college

It’s spring semester, and I log into facebook and find a new message, from oh yes, the same kid.  Once again, he pours out his feelings, letting me know that he can’t stay silent and has to know if I like him in return. (Mind you I again had a boyfriend, and yes he knew I did) Annoyed at the whole situation, I ignored the message. Flat out ignored it. I even avoided my church! I figured, this would blow over, if I ignored it, he would go away.

A week later I get another message asking if I received the previous message. I ignored it.

A day after that I get another message asking if I am ignoring him. Uh…. Duh? I ignored it.

Ten days later, another message that simply said goodbye.

Seven hours later, another message asking me if I ever even considered him a friend. Yeah, I’m a jerk, I ignored it.

Nine days later, another message. This one started out alright, he was apologizing for his rash behavior and forwardness. It went on to say how he valued our friendship and so on and so forth... then it just went downhill as he stated that ‘most importantly’ he had liked me ever since he first met me, and still likes me. I ignored that one too…

I’m sorry boys but persistence isn’t always charming, and if a girl flat out ignores you, that does NOT mean you should continue telling her that you like her, especially if she is in a relationship with someone else… that’s like asking someone to cheat on their significant other, it’s just wrong!!!!!!!

I wish I could say he’s given up, I really wish I could…

Guest Feature: Meghan's Awkward Life

Before I introduce today's guest author, I just wanted to say to all of you mystery readers that it is ok to comment below and leave your opinions! I know that a whole bunch of you are reading anonymously and everything but let's encourage these girls (or guys)!! And it's cool to follow the blog too. If you have gmail, it should be super easy for you to do so. Ok- now starting introductions....


Meghan has been my friend for many years but the one reason why we bonded so quickly because we always have awkward things happening to us. Our friendship grew but this past year was hard because Meghan moved to Mexico for a study-abroad and ended up getting a teaching job there until this last December. Now she moved to Paterson, NJ as an AmeriCorps person working in a bilingual community, putting her passion for Spanish and helping others to good use. 
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I have spent the last few months juggling in my mind what I want to do with my life, going back and forth and coming up with a new plan every day. Then, in one day, I was offered a potential husband, a job, an apartment, a second family, and a car. You might be asking yourself right now- how can I do that too?

I had met up with a client for work to help her with translating documents for her kid’s school. Somehow, this turned into me going to her apartment (in a very scary part of Paterson where she told me never to walk alone). After being in her apartment for over an hour just talking about life, I began to wonder why she had called me to come over! But I blamed this on a language misunderstanding… maybe I was missing something because we were speaking Spanish.

Casually, she brings up that they are illegal immigrants and starts to tell me about their life. I had told her earlier that I didn’t have a car, so she mentioned (jokingly I thought ) that I could just move in with her family for free, and then I could use their car all the time and drive them around (since they don’t have licenses)- it’d be perfect for all of us! I laughed (convinced this was a joke), but when she brought it up later, I realized it definitely wasn’t! But I explained to her that I already have an apartment, and she said well just move out! Hmmm seeing as she wouldn’t even let me walk down the street to the bus stop at 6:00 PM because it was too dangerous that late at night, I’m thinking this isn’t the place I want to move to.  But I just explained that I already had signed a lease that I couldn’t get out of.

Then she explained that she had invited me over to see if I could tutor her 2 sons (who are in elementary school). This explains the job part of my first statement- the most normal thing that happened that night.

She tells me about her whole extended family- and that her husband has a 24 year old son from a previous marriage a half hour away. So she decides to call him, hand me the phone, and tell me it’s my new friend! I start speaking to him in English (not knowing what language to talk in) and he didn’t understand anything… eventually I just handed the phone over saying I don’t know what to say to him! She asks me when I can start tutoring and we agree on Tuesday, so she asks him if he’s free on Tuesday.. Hmm I sense a set up. When I told my boss (who’s from El Salvador) the story, he says he thinks she’s trying to get me to marry her son to make him legal. Thankfully, I got stuck at a meeting that day and couldn’t go over!

The conversation continues and she invites me to dinner, to her family party the following day, to her son’s communion. She wants me to take road trips with the family so I can drive them, to come sleep over sometimes, and to attend family events with them. How did this all happen when it was the second time we were meeting???  Is this a genuinely nice Latin American family like I found all over Mexico or are they using me to get past the restrictions of being immigrants, or a little bit of both???

This is just one of many strange things to happen to me since I moved to Paterson. Other events include getting offered chocolate by an extremely high guy on a bus- and him insisting over and over again as we got stuck in non-moving traffic as I was just hoping we would move so I could escape; asking for directions from a taxi driver who told us to pay $5- which we of course said no we’ll find directions somewhere else- and she felt bad so she followed us and told us where to go when we reached our next stop; having everyone assume I’m latin american (by the way I am very Irish looking- blonde hair, blue eyes, you know) and talking to me in Spanish, which half the time I get and the other half I don’t; getting constantly hit on by the grandpa across the street; being told that it doesn’t matter that I’m an AmeriCorps volunteer because when in Paterson “you come on vacation, you leave on probation“); living in a place where Spanglish seems to be the official language and to my amazement most people can think in 2 languages at once and switch back and forth throughout a single sentence; and just living in a city that seems to be in its own planet in general. 

Random Sidebar

Oh heyyyyy!

So... This random link popped in my news feed on facebook and I really wanted to share it with ya'll. It's called "How to Approach a Woman." This is for all the gents out there that are the reason why I have the blog in the first place. I'm sorry that there is foul language in it and some strong innuendos. But it's funny. If you have issues with the language (since a lot of you I know will), then don't watch it. Mmkay? K. Yay!

Also- I'm not quite sure why that picture is posted as the frozen frame on the clip. That has nothing to do with the video, don't worry. It's not that risqué.

Guest Feature: Em Holl's Awkward Life

Em Holl is wonderful and is today's awkward blogger. She and I lived on the same floor 2.5 years ago and in the same building last year. Many times, she'd get herself into awkward situations that she would ask me to help her out in and she'd return the favor. (OOH- I totally just thought of a great new story I have from that). Anyhoo- Em is all grown up now and creating/receiving awkwardness from not Newark. :) Here are two of her stories.

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Story #1
A few months ago I was salsa dancing with a few of my girlfriends.  For the longest time, the only men who would ask me to dance were as tall as my shoulder and much older than I was.  

Finally, a guy my age sks me to dance.  And yes, he's completely dreamy looking.  He dances phenomenally.  It was one of the best dances I have had to this point in my life.  As he looked at me and smiled, he started a conversation.

He says, "I don't speak English.  Hable espanol?"  

Why, no, I don't.  Hmmm.  "Non.  Hable anglais?  Parlez francais?"

"No.  Are... You... Married?"

Thus ended my night.


Story #2
I currently live with my parents.  However, the downturn in the real estate market has created quite an opportunity for me, so last weekend my father and I started house hunting. I have never done this before, so I wanted his help.

The realtor met us outside the house, and we introduced ourselves.  Upon entering the house, the owner showed us around.  It was a nice house, and we all wandered into the yard to see the fences, shed, etc. When the realtor went to get her business card, the owner looked at myself and my father and asked him who he was.

"He's my father," I cut in.

At this point, she has an expression of acute embarrassment on her face, and she replies, "I thought he was your... errrr... umm... I didn't want to make any assumptions."

Well, obviously at this point, since she is stumbling over her word choice, she did make a few assumptions.  Namely despite the family resemblance, she thought he was my sugar daddy and boyfriend.  Wrong on every level.  And this is not the first time this has happened.  Next time we are taking my mother, too.

Guest Feature: Diana's Awkward Life

Oh Diana. How I love thee. I met Diana the 1st week she was a freshman and tried inviting her to my small group but she had lab during it. Fortunately, she was able to come in the spring as this story kept getting more and more awkward and a lot of us had to help her out through the art of hiding and protecting her. I've had my run-ins with this guy too, and let me tell you, he's an interesting character. Diana is adorable though and a computer science nerd at its finest and representing us girls in her field beautifully! And her passion for Jesus is amazing and to me is a great example on how to grow and deepen our faith as time matures us.
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Pancake Man

I met this guy in my very first semester of college. It was election day, and some group on campus was hosting an event to watch the results come in on the TV in our dorm lounge. Upon entering the room, I headed over to the only person there I recognized: my RA. She was talking to a rather hefty dude with a laptop. They were talking about Computer Science- I was amazed; here was an upperclassmen in my major who knew how to talk! We traded a few quips about math and he seemed like a pretty normal person. Oh how little I knew…

My roommate showed up so I finally had some company and could leave my poor RA and her acquaintance alone. But rather than being bothered by my earlier conversational intrusion, Large dude (that’s his name now) talked to me after the results came in. Being the only Republican in the room, I wanted to be discreet about how I felt about this “monumental occasion” so I merely said I was a little disappointed but not really surprised. Apparently my nerdiness and radical opinions on politics intrigued this guy because he decided we were friends after that point.

The next time I saw the guy was in the dining hall. I’d just gotten back from church and was grabbing brunch with my roommate. Large man stopped by our table with a plate of pizza and asked if he could join us (this is not normal behavior at my school). Being polite passive aggressive people, we obviously said yes and were planning on being friendly, however there was just something creepy about this guy. He would squinch his eyes up, laugh at every sarcastic remark I made, and only addressed his questions to me. Now, I don’t get quickly creeped out whenever anyone expresses the stereotypical signals of liking me, however this was different. This guy was huge (and I’m a 90-lb weakling), he looked about 25 (and slightly homeless), and talked extremely condescendingly towards everyone. Yes, I’m very prejudiced, but either he had creepy motivations, or was way too desperate for intelligent conversation.

I thought that was a one-time awkward experience, because it’s rare to see specific people often on such a large campus, but I saw him again that week. He came to InterVarsity with a mutual acquaintance. It confused one of the staff members when he heard we’d met before, and I felt a little concerned when Large man and I kept getting weird looks from him. After the event, this guy followed me out and asked questions about why I went there, faith stuff etc. I ditched him quickly enough because I had a bike, and common sense enough not to walk alone in the dark with very large men, but that’s when I started to be wary.

I’m telling you that story because it set the trend for the next 5 weeks. I would run into him in the dining hall 2 or 3 times a week, and he would grab pizza and ask to sit with us. I was stealthy and usually spotted him eating a full meal before that, so the logical conclusion I eventually came to was that he would remain in the dining hall until he saw me (or another victim) and then grab pizza and join the table and never leave first. Then I’d see him at Large Group and he would try and stalk me ‘til our paths split. I altered my eating habits to avoid this guy. I legit had people help me stay out of his line of sight while I was in the dining hall.

Anyway, winter was a nice break, but in the Spring when I could finally join a small group, he came to that too. And by that point I’d found out he was president of the atheist student group on campus. And all he would do is argue about how we were wrong, even though the facts were always on our side. Mostly though he’d ask meaning-of-life stuff that no one in the universe knows. I guess we should have been flattered that he thought we’d know, even though he never accepted our explanations for anything.

So then it seemed he toned down on the dining hall stalking, but not the follow-you-straight-out-of-large-group part of it. But then, when I wasn’t as freaked out one day, he joined us again at brunch. After I’d gotten completely stuffed with food, he then invites me to “the Oratory down the street – they serve free pancakes there right now.”  Um, hello, I just ate? Apparently he went there for a second lunch every week. I was able to politely decline, but afterwards one of my enlightened brunch-buddies said he had just asked me out. Come to think of it, I think it happened twice. I’d had it. I mean, seriously, the guy should pay on the first date! But it also creeped me out more.

Soon after, my roommate and I were in the dining hall when Large man asked to join us. I said no. He asked if I was rejecting him.

I grabbed all the courage in the room and replied, “Could you please not sit with us today?”

I think I mortified my roommate but it worked. I had said no to someone!! I don’t think he got the hint to stop the trend though, but at least it was the end of the semester. And it paid off, too;

At the end-of-year party for our small group I received a certificate: the award for being “Most Confrontational”.  I should get that thing framed.

Guest Feature: Em McKeever's Awkward Life

Yay! I've only talked to Em in real-life a few times but I think she is just absolutely awesome! We met at one of Michael's open mics and chatted and then became fb friends and twitter followers and fellow blog readers :) Em is super cool. She loves nature and saving it (like me but she actually does it for real), and has a super great voice and is phenomenal and guitar-playing and sings about horseshoe crabs. I'm so excited that she shared this story!
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                I’m very glad to have been given a chance to share my awkward story – there are not often appropriate vehicles for awkward stories, y’know.
                This story begins in North Carolina.  Greensboro is not what I’d call a vacation hotspot, but it’s where I went to school and it’s where many of my beloved college buddies still reside.  I periodically take a week or two during the year to visit – and by “visit,” I mean generally mooch off my friends and sleep on their couches, while spending time catching up with folks in a rapid-fire succession of coffeeshop meetings, lunch dates, and general shenanigans.
                I was so thrilled when Liz asked me if I wanted to go contra dancing.  I learned to contra dance during college, and I’ve become deeply passionate about it over the years.  I’ve been getting tired of annoying all my friends up north with my constant invitations to go dancing, so it was really exciting to be invited by someone else for a change!
                It promised to be a great night.  While Greensboro isn’t much for vacations, it’s got some great thrift stores – we found me an awesome skirt as well as a pair of pumas.  I borrowed a top from Liz and BAM! We’d concocted a snazzy contra outfit!  Now I was super-pumped.
                Feeling great about life, we sallied forth.  The beginner-to-expert ratio was very low, which is the best combination – you always want to be bringing new people to experience contra dance, but it’s best if it’s expert-heavy.   That way, the beginners learn quickly, and the experts don’t get bored of dancing only with beginners the whole dance.  I ran into a lot of old acquaintances, danced my way through a series of wonderful partners, and sang along to the live music.  It was all over too quickly.
                I was approached by a man who held out his hand, and invited me to join him for the final waltz.  I obliged – it’s rare that I don’t oblige, unless I already have a partner.  Waltzing is slower, more laid-back than the frenzied fun of contra.  You have time to talk with your partner for awhile.  To be sure, I enjoyed this man’s company, and I accepted his business card when he offered it to me at the end of the waltz – but I had pegged him as maybe mid-thirties.
                People have a hard time guessing my age.  I apparently have not aged physically since turning 21, according to most of the guesses.  Sometimes, though, especially after a conversation, they guess on the older side.  So I didn’t necessarily think that he was trying to rob the cradle.  But I also wasn’t necessarily sure that he was actually looking for anything romantic – maybe he just wanted to talk.
                Which was probably my first mistake, and my first step towards awkward.
                I tried to figure it out.  I’m not too shabby of an internet researcher (aka stalker), so I looked and looked… Facebook.  Myspace.  Google.  Youtube.  Anything.
                Nothing!
                Well, says I, what could be wrong with a little networking?  So we played tag for awhile until we finally both had a window open.
                But guess what?  By this point, my researching had paid off.
                17.  Years.  Older.  Than.  Me.
                Which is not a problem, really – I relate well with folks of all ages – but it’s quite a different story when you suspect that the other party is interested in more than just a friendly chat.  There’s this feeling in your gut that says, gee, this is a mess and I don’t really want to talk to this guy anymore, but I’ve been saying that I do, and, wow, I don’t know how to get out of this huge awkward mess and oh, crap.
                Well, the call came in.  And I was sitting at home, by myself, not doing anything.  I stared at the phone, hesitating, and then I decided I’d better just bite the bullet.  Maybe tell him that I didn’t really want to talk.
                Only, when I picked up, we just started talking.  There was no confession from me that I didn’t want to talk.  There was no resistance.  It just kept getting worse and worse, and the knots in my stomach kept doubling and doubling.
                I’d had people pull the plug on me before.   People who had enthusiastically traded e-mails with me, contacted me, and then all of a sudden stopped returning them.  It stunk at first, but after a couple weeks I’d forgotten all about it.  No big deal.  So I could have walked away at any given time from this increasingly awkward conversation – and for whatever reason, I didn’t know how!
                I don’t know if you’re a believing sort of person, reader-person, but I really believe that God stepped in to stop this awkward downward spiral.  I’ve never had a connectivity issue in my house, ever.  I get great reception, there’s always at least two bars.
                Mid-conversation, the service just dies.  Dies!  The phone is suddenly “SEARCHING FOR SVC” after 10 minutes of crystal-clear conversation.  I try calling.  I try texting.  Nothing works.  I sit quietly, approximately 10% disappointed and 90% immensely relieved.  And I get this sense of God trying to communicate a very important message: “I’ve given you what’s colloquially known as an ‘out.’ USE IT!”
                I sent my admirer an apologetic e-mail for the loss of service with no distinct promise of a return call.
                Two seconds later, my phone has service again.
                I mean… maybe you think it’s petty and small-minded to think that God would bother to step in and solve my personal problems.  If that’s you, I really have no rebuttal.  Perhaps it is petty and small-minded of me.  Or maybe I live on faith that God knows me, loves me, and protects me.  Regardless, I was absolutely saved from my own awkward situation, and I’m grateful!

Guest Feature: Brianna's Awkward Life

This next post is by my friend Brianna who in the 1st week of knowing her, she destroyed her ACL and was on crutches and a limpy for a few months. But she's pretty cool. And here is her story.


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I love pie. It's my favorite dessert. I also have a funny story about it, which might not be funny unless you're either me or one other person who's in on the joke. I'm hesitant to share, because the story almost makes this one kid the butt of the joke, but I don't intend to make fun of him. When I laugh about this story, I'm laughing about the situation, not the boy. I shall call him Wayne.

Pie. In my family, my dad always makes them. Because I have an oven at school for the first time, I decided I was going to try it. However, the recipe I used .... okay, when you get a recipe from online, make sure it makes sense! I thought 15 minutes wasn't long enough to cook a pie for, but that's what it said in the recipe! I even turned off the oven after 15 minutes but let the pie sit in the hot oven until I needed to take it to Bible study. This also happened to be the only night of the semester that I couldn't stay at Bible study the whole time: I had to go to a lecture that I had to write a paper on.

While I was at the lecture, I got a text saying that the pie is undercooked. Because there was nothing I could do about it, and I didn't feel like apologizing, I didn't answer the text. I figured it was inedibly undercooked, but when I got to Bible study, several of the boys were chowing down - one in particular. Wayne. This boy had never been to our study before, but he was eating the pie straight from the pie plate at one point. He kept going back for more and more! And thus, the hilarity began. 

Later, I had attended an event with him that our student group had worked to put together. Afterwards, a group of us hit up Dunkin for some donuts. While there, somehow PIE got brought up. And I, being a stupid, stupid person and thinking it would be funny to him too, explained to him that my friend and I thought that the way he ate the pie at our Bible study was pretty funny. "But I'm glad somebody did - I did a bad job on it, and was afraid no one would eat it." That's how I tried to save myself from awkwardness. I don't think it worked.

Out of embarrassment, I took my donut home rather than eat it in the DD, and was walking up to the Towers, expecting the whole time that he would ride past me on his bike. When I got to the end of the pedestrian bridge to Laird, I decided that he wasn't going to pass me, and because I was really hungry -and no one was around - I opted to pull my donut out and have a bite. Then…

POKE!!!

Out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of me, I am poked on the arm by none other than Wayne. On his bike. He seemed to think that poking a girl unexpectedly at ten at night when she's walking by herself is an okay thing to do. I disagree. It's not okay. I was still embarrassed that I had told him about the pie, I had thought that no one was around, I had food in my mouth - all in all, I was shook up. When I got home, all I could say was "I told Wayne about the pie."

I saw him in the dining hall later, eating pie. I didn't even see him at first, but he was like "Brianna!" so I was like "Oh hey, Wayne!" and I asked him whether it was sweet potato pie or pumpkin pie (Because I was thinking about getting some. Come on. I like pie.) He looked up at me from his table with a sort of confused look and said "I... don't know." I was laughing and giggling to myself for about an hour after that, at least, and then again when I told my friend about it.

Lastly, I happened to see him studying in the lounge the other day, and I was in the stairwell with my friend who knows all about the pie. There was a sign in the stairwell. It said “PIE.” We couldn't contain ourselves, and simply ran out of the building laughing about Wayne and pie.

Wayne will now forevermore be associated to pie by me.

Guest Feature: Michael Natrin's Awkward Life

Today is the beginning of guest features!!! Wooooo! I'm going to start with some short ones by my friend Michael. He's pretty cool. He likes to sing about hot dogs and he collects instruments and likes to do lots of nerdy things. He lived with giant hair on my floor freshman year, the floor that was the creators of Nutball and made another RA cry, if that gives you any idea of the awkwardness yet awesomeness that occurred on a regular basis there. His stories are not from that time though, they are more recent. Enjoy!

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مرحبا

This is how you say hello in Arabic. To me it looks like funny squiggles, but I guess that is what our English letters look like to someone unfamiliar with our characters. From August to January, I worked in a leasing office for free rent (aka slavery). Our complex houses a lot of the university's English Language Institute students. This means that when they come to check in and get their housing assignment, they do not speak English. It is hard to sign a lease and go through legal paperwork when two people are not speaking the same language. At times, residents did know some English, which helped a bit. Others knew English very well, but they pretended not to and tried to pull sneaky tricks on the staff to try to get an extra key or to attempt to bargain with us for how much they needed to pay. You had to be very careful and aware of what was happening. They would always come in trying to pick up packages or get checks or sign leases and they would say they were there for their "friend" or their "brother" or their "cousin." Halfway through the conversation, they would completely change their story when you realized they were talking about themselves or they were just trying to be sketchy. Asians. Chinese. Koreans. Colombians. Saudi Arabians. Indians. It is a rough line of work, especially since we were not trained and did not have a proper setup for welcoming people to this (awesome) country. I am not racist, I am merely commenting on the language barrier.

Anyway, I will now tell two awkward stories.

Number one. I had to work on October 29th, which was the day before the biggest and longest exam of my life. It was also right before Halloween. I was very stressed and did not care about costumes or candy. I was typing a maintenance request for a Korean girl who did not know how to flip a breaker back on after plugging a blow dryer ("hot air gun" if it is in an engineering lab) into the same circuit as her fridge. The power setup in the apartments was very strange because they had all been remodeled so much. Anyway, I looked up and a frail looking Saudi in a full-on vampire costume and facial makeup was standing at my desk. His friend was standing right beside him in a ninja suit.

Awkward. 

Then all of a sudden, a girl I have known since I was 10, walked in and stood beside them. She said, "oh hey, it's Michael Natrin." I think she might have had some sort of costume on, but I don't remember as I was mainly just confused about why she had just brought two Saudis into my office in full costume. She was their escort, since she apparently works for the ELI program and they were honors students who get free housing. We took care of their leases and luggage and it was very interesting and awkward. 

Delaware is so small that the chance of me being anywhere and running into someone I know is approximately 92%. The chance of that someone I know ever being with two costumed Saudis - 100%. You have to stop and evaluate what is happening when someone from your childhood walks in and sees how crazy your life is.

Second story. It was hard for me to find one that is appropriate or interesting, mainly because I have a horrible memory. I want to post two stories so that people will think I lead an eventful life though. I suppose I will mention this past New Year's Eve party. First of all, it was awesome. Jefe played at it. He is great. They tried to make me play a song after midnight, but I only know sad songs by heart so I had to be embarrassed and say no. I don't think anyone remembers that though. My awkward story came right after midnight when a girl pulled me out into the garage awkwardly. It was strange and I was scared because it was not my girlfriend. Before I could say anything, she pulled me upstairs into the loft. It was dark and about ten degrees (Fahrenheit). She was more than mildly intoxicated, so I knew that I only had to be concerned about her safety (not falling through the floor) and not about anything happening. I thought she wanted to rape me though. That is the sort of thing that happens after midnight on New Years Eve in dark attics. Anyway, she was just very distraught regarding a recent breakup, so I talked her calm and then hugged her crying-ness for a few minutes and then tried to sneak downstairs in the most non-awkward-looking way. It still looked awkward though.

My life is strange.