When you live the life of a hermit, communication skills generally become rather rudimentary. Mine usually ride the range of technology. I feel safe in the world of black and white blinking cursors. There, things are black and white. What I write is what I mean. If there is a suggestion of something deeper, it can be uncovered in the permanent pages. Face to face conversations, and (god forbid!) phone calls, make my life a living hell. Suddenly body language can tell a story that contrasts tone of voice. You can lose yourself not only in the juxtaposition of contradictions, but you may also lose the tried and true signs of attraction—signs which I recently sleuthed the Internet for. (A bit ridiculous? I was desperate. And I flirt like a broken faucet.)
I should have a button that says, “Don’t talk to me. I’m Awkward.” Someone better watch out.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Season 4 ii: The Jokester

Setting: Logan High School, English office, 2 months worth of 8th hours
He was back. This time in a more permanent position…kitty-corner from me. B.A.D. plan. A cute boy has always worked as my distraction. This one is not only cute, but easy to talk to and willing to put up with my snarky side. Before I realized it, eighth hour turned from prep to comedy hour, and I was in the spotlight. Everything (and I mean everything) could get me jabbing. I was a wit master! I couldn’t be stopped. I also couldn’t stop my lips from flapping about my family, my friends, my… (fill in the blank). I was on my toes, tipping to leap. I am not really sure how I stumbled over the edge, but there I was: floating. Maybe the butterflies in my stomach were what kept me up. Whatever the case, I was in deeper than I had expected. All from a few jokes.
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