Once upon a time, in America's semi-rural suburbia, there lived a girl named Hayley. She loved nerdy things, but most of all, she loved nerdy boys. She had little problem getting them to like her, but a lot of problems keeping herself interested once she'd jumped head-first into a spontaneous relationship. For example, she had a heated will-they-or-won't-they thing with a boy named Andrew, starting when they were twelve, and ending after their senior year in high school.
Okay, I'm sorry. I can't do the whole third person thing anymore. EH HEM. I kept Andrew dangling by a string for six years, let him call me his girlfriend for two months, and don't care about any of it anymore. During the Andrew Purgatory, I had several small, less-than-important flings, and threeish longer-term boyfriends. In middle school, there was a boy who, for this blog's purposes, we'll call Scotty, as a nod to Megan McCafferty's Sloppy Firsts. We flirted in the obnoxious hair-flipping seventh grade way, talked on the phone, and slobbered disgustingly on each other in someone's basement once at a party. Scotty was mostly kept around to make me feel cool and to fill the empty space of my AIM profile (S+H=4eva and whatnot), and he now matters in no way other than that he was kind of the first. Freshman and sophomore year, there was a steady, pleasant-- if not boring-- drummer. With a car. We'll call him Ringo. We spent a year watching movies on his couch, talking about trivial, boring stuff, and only ever did trivial, boring things together. So imagine my surprise when at the end of my junior year, I met the only person I've ever been in love with.
Justin Timberlake (Haha-- new kids, he really has absolutely nothing to do with Justin Timberlake. I just picked that name because it's so hysterically unfitting) and I had an inexplicable chemistry from the beginning, as well as a natural knack for torturing each other. In hindsight, we were really only official for about six months, but we'd picked, like, the breed of our future dog. We were on-again-off-again, but when it was on, it was ON, and when it was off, it was usually still kind of on. Now we're indefinitely off. "JT sounds like an interesting fella," says commentor Lindsey. "Just let me know whether I'm supposed to like him or hate him because I'm not really sure anymore." Sorry, Lindsey. Sorry, everybody. For now, even I don't know.
And that, boys and girls, is the past.
We'll see what happens now. My friend Sebastian and I have been spending most of our time together, and we like each other. I'm attracted to overt masculinity. He likes fashion. It doesn't make any sense, but somehow it's really fun. I'll, as always, keep you guys posted. For now, though, my Facebook relationship status is set at It's Complicated, and I'm not going out of my way to change it anytime soon.
On a totally unrelated note, writing this blog has taken twice as long as it should because, um... I may or may not be watching Teen Witch. Like, the movie responsible for that ridiculous choreographed "I Like Boys" song I linked to a few entries ago. It's been a favorite of mine and my sister's for a few years, but it never stops being ludicrous. Unfortunately, things took a nasty turn a few minutes ago when I came to a frightening realization. Save the applique denim vest at the beginning, I REALLY LIKE THESE CLOTHES. And my hair acts like that naturally! "When can I start dressing like the '80s?!" I asked Sebastian, my breathing equivalent of Glamour magazine. He texted back, "For a month last summer." Ugh. Noooo. So not fair. "No, no. It has to happen again," I said. "They have to give me this one hurrah." He says I should do it anyway. Hahahahahaa. What do you think? Would you still love me if I started wearing blue bobby socks with heels? What if I freestyle rapped out a convertible? Would I at least get one standing ovation?
Chipotle burritos this year: 21
S'mores this summer: 2
Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3
P.S. And I also obsessed over/pined for another boy from the time I was eleven until... well, frankly, I still felt obsessive and piny over him when we saw each other yesterday. I was pretty okay with leaving that story out, but Leah (professorspork) just yelled at me in her comment. So.