16 October, 2006, 831 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Why is it that these days, being considered smart is such an insult? I hate it. All boys want is an easy fucking getaway. And that’s understandable, but I don’t want to talk about my feelings and share my insecurities with you. I want to laugh with you. Maybe give you a mix tape or two, just to be the average cliched [fill in the blank] high school girl. I don’t want to kiss you in the rain or under the stairwell, and I don’t need you to come to my window at night with a boom-box so we can sit out on my roof and stargaze. You don’t have to come over to my house when I’m sick and bring me tomato soup because you remembered that I wrote it was my favourite kind of soup. I don’t want presents for our monthiversary; that is boring. We don’t have to go to the mall together every weekend, or if you are in band, I don’t have to sit with you on the disgusting, sweaty bus and try to make everything romantic when really, it’s not. The only reason why girls sometimes think marching band is romantic is because if you ask them out while they look ugly/sweaty and in uniform like everyone else, they take that as a compliment…a dual compliment: you think they’re cute even when they’re sweaty, and you think they stand out in a sea of likeness; of uniformity. I don’t need to send you notes back and forth on our graphing calculators. That’s pointless. You don’t need to write me love letters and send them in the mail. We don’t need to have a “She’s All That” scene, at any point in the movie. You don’t have to tell me I look beautiful or cute, or even good; you can tell me the truth and say I look okay or lame or wretched. Or not even. I just want a pique-nique and that is all. Maybe a romantic one, but if I had a pique-nique, then I could do even without the mix tapes. Just one picnic. One.

Okay, so maybe all that other stuff would be cute, but you don’t have to do any of it, ever. Even if, after the pique-nique, we never speak again, I will be happy knowing I have had one romantic picnic.

Today, by the way, was traumatic in the morning with Rachael’s tantrums, and then great after I got to straighten my bangs. It raised my confidence so much, I gained the ability to flirt. With new people. Normally, I’m too inhibited to flirt, but today, I was not. And I was escorted to class because of being suave. Yey.


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