During the course of this past spring semester, I was fortunate enough to write a weekly column for The Maneater, the University of Missouri’s student-run paper. However, this year I’ll be writing for The Columbia Missourian and unable to continue my weekly column. The good news is, I have a blog.
Now I’m not promising a weekly look into my lackluster love-life, but I will be keeping anyone bored enough to read this updated.
My column, the Single Girl Diaries —or SGD, as I affectionately refer to it—began as a fun joke for myself. I enjoy making others laugh and what better way than through my personal experiences? So I started off with a personal favorite of mine: I Heart to Fart. But as my stories progressed, I began to learn more about myself. I’ll be the first to admit that my writing is extremely subpar and I (more often than I wish to admit) wrote my column in the hour before it was due. But it was my happy place. I’ve never loved/hated writing so much. When I couldn’t think of something to say, I sat and fumed, angry with myself for not having a topic, but when I did have a story, my fingers flew across the keyboard as I recounted my tales. The Single Girl Diaries was my own version of Carrie Bradshaw’s Sex and the City column, sans sex and city. It was my time to put everything on the table and spill my thoughts. So now that I have even more freedom to write what I want, when I want, prepare yourselves. The Single Girl Diaries are back, less censored and unedited.
To start things off, I’ll update you on my summer love life. It didn’t exist. I did get invited on a milk run by a cute guy from work, so that’s exciting. But we literally bought milk. Strawberry. He bought it for me. It was great. I haven’t really spoken with him since.
Now that we’re all caught up on that, I’d like to briefly address the topic of crushes. Crushes appear so innocent, but they can be a dangerous thing. I mean, come on. It’s literally called a CRUSH. As in crush my heart and dreams if you don’t like me back.
So I have a crush (let’s be honest, multiple crushes). But I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if they think I’m flirting or just being nice. Honestly, I can’t tell myself. I also barely know them, so I don’t know what to say to them or talk about. I can usually muster a nice conversation about mutual classes, but that’s a sure dead end.
What next? How about this weather? Do you like piña coladas? Cool. I can’t drink. How about walking in the rain? No? You hate rain? Cool… I’ll just turn around and walk away now.
I struggle with conversation. I don’t know what to say. I freeze up. My stomach drops. Gosh, I sound like I’m 13-years-old. I pretty much am. Twenty going on 12 sounds about right.
I’ve decided to compile several GIFs (pronounced JIF, you ignorant heathens) to give you an idea of me flirting.
So here’s where I stand: I really like this guy. He barely knows I exist. I only know I really like him thanks to the evil that is social media. I don’t know what to do. I swiped right for him on Tinder a week ago and he hasn’t swiped me. It’s driving me crazy. I need to stop now. I also really need to delete my Tinder…
Thanks for reading my weird, thoughtless rant about being awkward. Hopefully I’ll have more to report in the future.
Signing off – Ellise