on challenges

I'm not so much like this anymore (thankfully), but in high school I had this incredibly annoying habit of saying "WHAT? IS THAT A CHALLENGE?" whenever someone said something particularly odd (and certainly not challenging) to me. It normally resulted in me rubbing food on my face, dumping cups of water on my head/clothing, writing obscenities on my forehead (in various languages), wearing a horrific outfit, or acting like an idiot, always in public. There's also that time when I shaved my head as a challenge.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE
(and why I was single in high school)

on aim

The way to a man's heart?

I liked a boy in high school. Okay, I liked a ton of boys in high school, but with this particular one...

I'll keep this short.

On several occasions I carried a frozen burrito in my pocket or backpack in case he got hungry in class. There was a microwave.

He never did want that burrito.

This is why I'm single.

HARTENSTEIN v3.0

I had a habit of assigning nicknames to guys I liked in middle school so I could talk about them and they wouldn't know. I'll spare you the entire list, but there was one in particular that was just awful.

So as you know I had a thing for Hartenstein, and I had a massive obsession/collection of beanie babies. Lord knows why I chose a periwinkle, pink, and pastel rainbow butterfly to name him after. The butterfly's name was Flitter and I ran around squawking about "Flitter" for months. I even brought it to school with me sometimes and giggled like a maniac in science because LOL FLITTER AND FLITTER ARE IN THE SAME ROOM or something.

Actually, there were three beanie baby butterflies. Flitter, Flutter, and Float. I assigned the other two butterflies to other boys but Flitterstein was my main focus. I also explained in detail to my friends their individual positions on what I'll refer to now as the Beanie Baby Rarity Scale and in which order they were created and their coloration differences.

THIS IS WHY I'M SINGLE.

Neopets

I used to play Neopets in middle school, which is fine, as it was middle school. However, I still go on my account every once in a while because I miss it and I have a Notepad document saved on my desktop of Neopets food items I'm saving for.

This is why I'm single.

Socks

I don't like not wearing socks, unless I'm in the shower. I hate my feet touching things. When I'm barefoot, I walk on my tip-toes, especially in a pool or at the beach, and I've worn socks in rivers, lakes, and oceans before. Sometimes even shoes.

I can't sleep without my socks. If even one falls off, I usually wake up or don't sleep very well. I don't like my feet touching the sheets or blankets, although it's not AS bad if they're flannel.

What's worse is I absolutely refuse to have sex without my socks on. Any time a guy tried to take them off to be funny, I hit him or punched him in the face. It wasn't a hard punch by any stretch, but I take my sock-keeping-on very seriously and needed to make that clear.

This is why I'm single.

on candygrams

Y'all bitches remember candygrams? If you don't, they were cards sent in middle school in association with an upcoming holiday or event, usually Valentine's Day or winter break, and generally had a lollipop attached to them. I have received a few, all of them from friends, but the ones I sent... no such luck.

Well, I've sent a few candygrams to friends over the years, but the one that goes down in history as the worst candygram ever (ever!) would be the one I sent in eighth grade.

See, in eighth grade, I was positively over the moon for one of my friends. Valentine's day was coming up, and I felt that I had to tell him how I felt. In a candygram. Anonymously. In Japanese.

You're probably confused at this point. If you don't know me, you'd be surprised at an eighth grader in an American school knowing Japanese. If you do know me, you'll know that I didn't begin studying Japanese until tenth grade, and I wasn't any good until eleventh. So, let me explain what I meant by "Japanese". I took a manga (Japanese comic), selected 26 random characters from the background (namely street signs and sound effects), assigned each of them to a letter, and wrote my message in code.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

PS- When the candygrams were delivered, the boy and I were the only ones to receive one... and I was sitting next to him. I was mortified. I had assumed that more people would receive candygrams, but since we were the only people it was the focus of attention.

EXPOSITION

In 9th grade, I had a crush on this guy Tony. He sat near me in French for a while, and we had PE the same period, but with different teachers. I was ridiculously giddy for him, but not in my usual stalker fashion. Well, aside from...

He was in a band called Exposition. I went to their concerts with Layla mostly, unless she couldn't make it or decided to stay home and KNIT instead. Over the next two or three years, I had developed a crush on every one of the four band members at different times. Also over those three years, I went to every single one of their shows except for one because I was hospitalized. Actually, what happened was I thought it would be best for me to stay a few more days, but when I remembered their show was coming up, I freaked out and had my mom get me released. I had brought the Exposition shirt I purchased with me to sleep in, so I put that on and tried to rush all the way from Costa Mesa to Santa Monica. I didn't make it, though. The releasing process was lengthy. I think the only other show I missed after that was their last one because I was out of state or something.

I bought their demo cd and listened to it all of the time. They honestly weren't even that good, but I still loved them to death, and I still have the shirt. Well, I lost mine somehow and was so upset Layla gave me her spare. As she mentioned, yes, she had TWO EXPOSITION SHIRTS. And the demo as well.

On my birthday this year, Layla and I listened to their most recent song before they broke up (I seriously cried), MVP, and drunkenly sang along. I have "Cheaters" on my itunes, which I believe was track number 7.

This is why I'm single.

And, this is why WE are single.

on photography

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY WE ARE SINGLE.

HARTENSTEIN v2.0

I spent so much time following him around at a distance, and staring, that I could recognize him in the same PE uniform as everyone else from across two of our middle school fields, on the other side of the fence.

This is why I'm single.

on baking

I'm sure most girls can relate. I was in high school, liked a guy, so what could I do to impress him? You know it girl, y'all bitch ass needs to bake. Not cook, but B-A-K-E, bake. Cookies, brownies, cake, fudge... mmm, sounds good, right? Right.

So, I'd bake something, but I couldn't give it to him directly, so I'd give them to everyone. Pretty good, right? I got to be nice to everyone while giving my wannabe-boyfriend some baked goods. Awesome.

I'd done this for years in school, starting from seventh or eighth grade. In my senior year, however, it got a little weird.

You see, when I was a kid, I had one of those queer science books that really are little more than distractions to the crackhead seven-year-old, chock-full of projects like making glue out of milk, Play-Doh from flour, and, in a lesson on emulsion, home-made mayonnaise.

Now, flash-forward to twelfth grade. I was planning on baking a batch of cookies, when I remembered the home-made mayonnaise. It occurred to me that mayonnaise was made of essentially the same ingredients that go into cookies- oil, eggs, and salt, with the addition of vinegar- and that I could put mayonnaise into the cookies. I googled it and saw that people legitimately made cookies with mayonnaise in them, and felt that it would be hilarious to make those.

So the next day, mayo cookies in tow, I went to school and passed them out to friends, telling them that they were sugar cookies with a special ingredient that I divulged to them only after they ate it. They actually tasted like sugar cookies, only they smelled real funky.

I fed people mayonnaise that I had baked into a cookie.
I fed my friends mayonnaise cookies.
I fed boys that I liked mayonnaise.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

on the bbdg

Alyssa had a shit-ton of beanie babies throughout middle and high school. I'm not sure if it was my idea, or hers, or perhaps we came up with it at the same time, but in seventh grade we somehow came up with a game called the "Beanie Baby Dating Game", or the BBDG for short. This game was pretty much a non-innuendo-laden version of the "Dating Game", only we added an element of trying to guess what kind of Beanie Baby (or what species of Neopet) it would be.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY WE ARE SINGLE

Icing?

When I was little, my mom and sister and I would often go out to buffets for dinner. There were a lot of buffets in Reno. One time as I was about to eat my delicious roll that one of us found... in a drawer... by the hot food, by my mom's suggestion I took the mini brown tub of pretending-to-be-butter and poured a sugar packet into it. I mixed it around, and ate it. She said she used to do it as a kid and that it was like icing.

I'm pretty sure years later she told me that she was kidding, and called me a retard while laughing.

This is why I'm single.

on intimacy

I'm sure everyone has pre-set "levels of intimacy" in their head, things that they have determined are o-kay to do with friends, and things that are only okay with lovers (except for the time you had one too many at the club), right? I've got those too, but I feel like they're kind of... bizarre.

The obvious, if you know me personally, is that for the most part, I HATE HUGS. Unless I've got a giant hard-on for the person, or it's family, I try to avoid hugs (unless I'm drunk- drunk-Lars is a whole 'nother story). I generally don't like cuddling or being held unless it's cold, and I feel that hugs are way too intimate to do with just anyone. I just don't like being that close to someone's face, and I hate knowing that they can feel my body pressed up against them. It's kind of creepy.


Where it starts to get weirder is that I am pretty comfortable with fellatio, regardless of who the recipient is. However, I think kissing is too intimate (being too close to a person's face, again) and generally cut that out as much as possible.

Also, as a rule, I don't have sex with anyone.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Sex

I had the thought the other day that I seriously want to make a guy think/say "It was like having sex with a dude," because I have honestly said "It was like having sex with a girl."

This is why I'm single.

on twitter

I once had a twitter account devoted solely to my bowel movements. It was called "penicillinpoops" and I'd update it whenever I pooped, peed, threw up, or was on my period. I think I kept it for a month or two during summer, until I started my second year of college and it looked like it would be annoying to keep updated.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

PS- The weirdest part is that I had a few followers.

Old man river, that old man river...

I took a JavaScript class briefly. One of the assignments was to put a bio of ourselves, some hobbies, and some interests. I guess one should put where they're from, what they do for fun, maybe some musical interests, future goals, stuff like that. Well, I did put where I'm from, but I also included that "I have the impossible aspiration to grow up to be a delightfully grumpy old man." I also included "Pillaging villages" and "Firin' mah lazor" in my hobbies.

A later assignment was to add in our occupations, employers, description and whatnot. On the first assignment I put that my nickname was Captain. For my job, I put "Pirate" and in the description I wrote that I "Do what I want cause a pirate is free, I am a pirate!"

Although I did get an 'A' on all of my assignments,

This is why I'm single.

on gaydar

As Alyssa touched upon with Hartenstein, she doesn't exactly have the best "gaydar", and neither do I. I've liked so many gay men, I've lost count, and that's really rather unfortunate seeing as I have an immense fear of dating a gay man.

In tenth grade, I was an active posting member on a livejournal community for the game DDR. I started talking to one of the members, a guy that lived in Tarzana, and developed a huge crush on him (he was actually the one whose message I would save and re-save every week for months). It should have been a sign that he was gay when he was A GUY POSTING ON A DDR LIVEJOURNAL COMMUNITY, but I just couldn't see it. I couldn't even see it when I added him on myspace and his background image was an Abercrombie and Fitch advertisement. I just passed it off as being metrosexual. He was one of those Asian guys that wore green contacts and I still couldn't figure it out.

And then I met him. He called me one Saturday when he was in Santa Monica, and I hopped on the bus going towards the pier to play a round of DDR with him.
It hit me all at once. The green contacts, the Abercrombie ads, the popped collar polos he wore. He was one of the queerest boys I've ever seen.

I just checked his myspace. He finally came out, it seems.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Jeff

I have a bit of an inside joke with some friends, one of which is named Jeff, and someone I refer to as "Mojito Boy." It involves me declaring myself Jeff. It was funny when it happened, but after that it sort of stuck to my brain.

Now, often times when someone asks me my name I will tell them my name is Jeff. When I went bowling with my parents, I requested they put me as Jeff. When I get a new job, I'm seriously considering asking if I can put Jeff on my nametag.

This is why I'm single.

on being in public

Alyssa and I have been friends since we were in sixth grade (although she is a dirty liar and will insist we were friends starting from seventh grade). We were both boy-crazy tweenybots that lived within a block of each other, and we loved to sing. We met in our choir class, where we learned a little ditty by the name of "The Happy Wanderer", and a slave song called "Yonder Come Day", which both had different parts. When Alyssa and I got to know each other better we started walking home together, and we'd usually end up singing "Happy Wanderer" or "Yonder Come Day" at full volume at 3 00 in the afternoon, splitting the parts between us.

We continued this well into high school. I'm pretty sure we tried to sing "Yonder Come Day" as recent as this year.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY WE ARE SINGLE

Of all the things to respond with..

I was making friends with a plan-

Wow. I'm leaving that up there because I think it's funny.

I was making plans with a friend via text message and he wanted to head to Seattle when we met up. We were going to go there the next day but he was hesitant for some reason I can't recall. It was between going there the next day or later in the week, and he mentioned that it was supposed to rain on Wednesday. He then said "Then again, Seattle is pretty romantic when raining ;p" to which I eloquently replied "I like rain."

This is why I'm single.

on hairstyles

I think this speaks for itself.

I didn't lose a bet, I didn't get paid to do it, I just did.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Oh, yeah, and after I shaved my head, I put the hair in a bag with a fake love note and left it in front of my friend's house. Not a close friend, mind you, just a guy that went to my school that I wasn't too well-acquainted with.

Grin and bear it? No, no I think I'll sing.

So, anyone who has known me since high school will probably tell you I've been to the emergency room a jizzillian times. I'm going to tell you either about the most recent, or the second to most recent which was possibly less than a week prior. I can't recall which time this particular thing happened.

What was this "particular thing?" Well, I was having blood drawn for some tests and they had to take about six vials. I don't handle needles too well; they tend to take a lot out of me and I have a habit of seizing, or rather, twitching and spazzing a tad. I tried to take my mind off of it and to relax so the blood would actually come out. Did I look away and breathe deeply? Did I squeeze my mother's hand? Did I cry? Did I think happy thoughts? Well, I did look away, but I also started singing. Rather loudly, might I add, "MY EYES HAVE SEEN THE GLORY OF THE BURNING OF THE SCHOOL, WE HAVE TORTURED EVERY TEACHER WE HAVE BROKEN EVERY RULE. WE PLAN TO HANG THE PRINCIPAL TOMORROW AFTER SCHOOL AS WE. GO. MARCHIIIING OOOOOONNNNN..." I sang this while the doctor drew my blood. Then, my mother started singing. And, to top it off, THE DOCTOR JOINED IN AS WELL. How the hell was I not transferred to a mental institution?

This is why I'm single.

on the sound of skateboards

It's not so prevalent now, but all throughout middle school and high school, if I heard a skateboard my ears would immediately tune in to it and I would turn my head in the direction of the sound, looking for a skateboarder.

Why would I do this? Well, it's kind of weird. You see, the day before 7th grade started, I was just hanging out in my bedroom when I heard a skateboard go by. I poked my head out the window, and I saw the cutest guy in my grade skating past my house. I was floored. I put on some clothes and ran outside, but by the time I was there he was gone. Since then, I've made sure to be aware of the sound of skateboards, just in case it was him, my ears perking up and my attention drawn fully to the sound until I have seen who was skateboarding.

I didn't think I'd be on the lookout for the next ten fucking years.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Adjectives.

My uncle took Layla and I to the Long Beach aquarium a few years back. There was an area with a little pond-like thing that had different rays in it, which people were allowed to touch. There may have been guitar fish in there as well. We leaned over and put our hands in, and as my hand grazed the back of a passing ray I exclaimed with the utmost, sincere delight, "EEE, IT'S SO CUTE AND MUCUSY!"

This is why I'm single.

on clumsiness

I'm not exactly the most graceful gal. I often have my legs covered in bruises, scratches, and cuts from walking into tables, shrubbery, and whatnot. I have to change my shirts a lot of the time due to dripping toothpaste on them while brushing my teeth. I trip while walking enough that I hardly pay it any attention anymore. I've fallen "up" stairs more times than I'd like to admit.

Last week, I was at a guy's house. As Alyssa once put so eloquently, we were partaking in a certain activity. I was sitting on the floor, and when we were done, I got up to find that my foot had fallen asleep. No, that's a little incorrect. My left foot was so numb I couldn't tell that anything was wrong until I tried walking to the bathroom and saw my foot dragging behind me. I figured if I just ran, it would be easier to get there, yelling "I SWEAR I'M NOT RETARDED, IT'S JUST THAT MY FOOT'S ASLEEP!" as I tripped and fell into the bathroom.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Hamsters.

My first hamster's name was Tweeker. When he died and I told my friend, she laughed. I was pissed and probably tried to hit her because I didn't understand what was so funny about "Tweeker" dying.

This is why I'm single.

on fashion

I am many things. But, a fashion expert is not one of them.

One of the best examples of this is probably a sweater I received as a gift from my host mother about four years ago.


It has a lot of sentimental value for me, although it's not exactly what I would call cute.

Please ignore my lack of pants.

This isn't just one of those things I got in high school that I thought was cute then and gradually stopped wearing over time as I grew out of it. I actually love this sweater to DEATH. I get excited when winter comes because even though I'm a little embarrassed about how childish and unflattering this sweater is, and about the silly random Engrish on the top of it, I can't get over how ridiculous/amazing it is. I wear it inside when it's a little cold, and I wear it outside when I walk around town. I even wore it to Rocky once with a short red dress and my skankarella heels.

I wore it to a guy's house a few nights ago. He wasn't exactly impressed.

THIS FUCKING SWEATER IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Shining, shimmering, splendid...

I had my eye on this guy since middle school and we ended up becoming friends this year. When we first started hanging out I left him a voicemail singing "A Whole New World" on three occasions. He's not the first or only person I've done that to.

This is why I'm single.

Acne, backne, back-of-the-neckne, chestne

I was getting off of some medication a few months back, because I didn't need it and it made me flat and apathetic. Well, flat and apathetic in comparison to my usual, pre-medicated self, but I still didn't like it. So, after a few days of not taking it I alway talked really fast and animatedly, and in great quantities. I noticed something I was concerned about, so I gave my step mother a call. I left my step mother a voicemail that was about three minutes long, expressing my concern about "Chestne," or Chest-acne.

She still makes fun of it.

This is why I'm single.

on being a girlfriend and being an ex-girlfriend

Y'all know that girl you knew in high school that always seemed a little, you know, gay? The chick that wore dickies with the cholo chonies you could see when she bent over? The one that had the queer best friend and hung out with all the lezzies during lunch? The one that never had so much as a real date through all four years of high school?

That girl was me.

I had dreamed of having a boyfriend since I was in elementary school, but due to a hilarious incident in my youth (it was luls, really) I refused to tell people that I even liked guys for the most part. The thing was, I could never really figure out why I wanted a boyfriend. I didn't want to be "in a relationship" (found that creepy), didn't really care if someone loved me (I was mostly content with how I felt towards them), and didn't care much about sex (intimacy is not my bag). I eventually itemized it into why I wanted a boyfriend:

Nude model for sketches
Yeah, I never did this with my ex, but this was seriously my number one all throughout high school, and what I would want a boyfriend for now. I used to be very into art, and if I had a boyfriend right now I'd be over at his place sketching him in his chonies.

Car/bicycle
Needs one or the other. I don't need someone to drive me places, but none of my friends bike for the most part, and I'd like some company for that.

Back massages
I am totally serious when I say that what I would want a boyfriend for most would be to get back massages. I'm totally selfish and love back massages soooo much, but I feel uncomfortable asking for them from friends for the most part (or they just kinda suck at giving them), but I feel like it wouldn't be too weird to ask for one from a boyfriend, right?

Hang-out pal
I can't even get over how lame this is. Granted, the majority of my friends are male, so it's not too weird, right? RIGHT???

So, yeah, assuming you read the title, you know that I eventually became someone's girlfriend. Let's not EVEN get into how terrible that was, because I'm trying to be done with it, but I'd like to think I was an o-kay, albeit absent, girlfriend. I tried to fulfill my normal, college-girlfriend makeout and penis-related duties, texted and called him on the phone every night, and even slept over (BAD IDEA LUL RITE), but I wasn't much one for "developing a relationship" (let's ignore the whole 'I wasn't interested in him or having a relationship with him in the first place' part). Really, my whole thing was trying to keep a guy by pretending to be his girlfriend. Eventually, it was too much and I had to break up with him. This is where it gets ugly.

See, girlfriend-Lars pretends to be nice. But, ex-girlfriend-Lars? Ex-girlfriend-Lars doesn't give a fuck, and will punch you in the face three months later for showing up at her house.

As it turns out, no matter how recent it happened, or how relevant it is to the current conversation, no guy that is interested in you wants to hear you say "yeah, I punched my ex-boyfriend in the face- oh, what'd he do? he showed up at my house", which I wish somebody had told me earlier.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

HARTENSTEIN.

I was tempted to just make a post that said

"HARTENSTEIN.

This is why I'm single"

I'll elaborate, though.

So in middle school I was pretty much in love with Alex Hartenstein. Aside from the fact that everyone was sure he was gay and I truely believed that his skipping to class was just... normal? Skipping of the frolicking variety, to clarify.

I was pretty obsessed. One of my AIM passwords was "alexloversongbird." And, one time when I had my friends Layla and Rachel over, we were burning a bunch of candles on my desk and playing with the wax. I decided we should make a new candle from the wax of all of the others, so we made one in the shape of a heart. I shoved a piece of wick in the center and dedicated it to Alex. Later, possibly that day, I dedicated the back left leg of my stuffed horse to Alex. The rest of the horse was named Twilight when it was a girl and Lightning when it was a boy. Oh, except one of the right legs was dedicated to Austin. As was a stuffed tiger who was later dedicated to Tony in 9th grade.

This is why I'm single.

on hobbies

As a freshman in college, my hobby was going on to chatrooms on Stickam, convincing boys to go "on cam" without their chonies on, hitting PRT SCN for great justice, and then consulting the Google to see if their Stickam userhandle corresponded with an old AIM username, Livejournal account, MySpace shortcut, or personal website. If it did, I'd contact them through that channel, send them the screencaps, and tell them I was planning on posting them publicly to freak them out. Sometimes, I'd put the photos on Blingee and just screw around with them. I still have the folder on my computer devoted to these screencaps, videos I grabbed (for those who chose to masturbate on cam or only do a quick flash), and a video of a HSU student snorting cocaine, along with penis photos I requested via text message and email.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Ryan.

When I was in second grade, I had a crush on this kid Ryan. He was in my class again in fifth grade and I still liked him. I was pretty forceful about it in second grade, chasing him around, drawing pictures of babies and naming the boy Ryan. I can't remember if I just wanted to name it Ryan or if I wanted his babies when we grew up. I wrote him a love note, but my mom wouldn't let me use the word love so I had to put like. Many of my baths were spent sitting in the water mixing up different soaps and shampoos trying to make some perfume-potion that smelled good that would make him love me if I thought about it hard enough while staring at the lid I mixed it in. I think I always ended up dumping it before I got out of the bath, though. I was less persistent in fifth grade, more shy about it. I'd always get super happy if we were assigned seats near each other and I'd bring extra snacks so I could give him some at snack time. We ended up becoming friends, finally, and he ended up actually liking me. Of course, by then it was the end of the year and I was moving to California a month or so after school was out. He gave me his address and I had his number. I'm not sure if he gave me the number or if I looked it up in the phone book months before. I wrote him some letters and never got a reply. I sent a christmas card. I held on to the crush for about two more years. Not actively, but it was still sort of there.

Summer after 10th grade, I was planning on moving back to Reno. I found his number in an old Pooh Bear address book I kept and gave him a call.

Five years later.

This is why I'm single.

on dinosaurs

My first sexual fantasy involved dinosaurs.

Let me slow down for a second. I don't mean in a furry/otherkin sort of way. What I mean is that when I was around six, my first sexual fantasy was a daydream that I was super rich, that I had my dad buy me a PTERODACTYL, and that myself and my boy of choice flew on the pterodactyl and had sex in the low-layer cumulus clouds.

Also, last week I was hooking up with a guy and I pretty much just zoned out and started thinking about how cool triceratops are.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

The perfect gift.

When I was in middle school, my best friend Alex had an epic crush on this guy Brenden. He was in my science class, and I took a seminar with him for the program we were in so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to do something nice for Alex. What exactly was my idea of "something nice"? I picked some hairs off of his shirt which had some of the hair gel he used on them and put them in a small glass jar that once held glitter. I didn't just happen to have the jar on my person. I planned this. I found the jar in my box of art supplies, emptied it out into another container, and brought it to school so that I could put Brenden's hair in it and give it to Alex.

I gave it to her. She was delighted.

This is why I'm single.

on souvenirs

I'm sort of a pack rat. Okay, I'm terrible. I'm about a box full of "perfectly good wrapping paper" away from being featured on A&E's "Hoarders". That's not the problem here. My big problem is taking "souvenirs" and keeping them. I've still got receipts for PENS I bought while I was in Japan. I saved a photo that was overexposed and ruined while being developed, a photo that came out as a red and white abstract image with no discernible face. I still have the plane tickets from when I flew to Oregon in ninth grade.

Like I said, my problem is souvenirs. Not just weird souvenirs, but creepy ones. Here's a list of the top five creepy souvenirs I've amassed over the years off the top of my head (there are probably, unfortunately, worse ones that I cannot recall at the time).

5. EXPOSITION. I actually bought their demo CD and TWO of their bandshirts. Alyssa can vouch for me on this one (and definitely relate). (Honorable mention: I bought a lot of shitty demo CDs just because I thought the band members were hot. A LOT.)

4. I still have the ticket stub from when I saw 1408 with Steinberg.

3. In grade 10, I had a group project with a boy that I was pretty sweet on. I mean, I don't think I would have ever considered dating him, but he was really cute. He gave me his phone number so I could call him if I needed help. I kept the phone number, written IN HIS HANDWRITING (omg, right??) in my wallet for YEARS. Seriously. Every once in a while I'll find the wallet and get totally weirded out, but I can't bring myself to throw it away.

2. I once "kept" a voicemail I received from a boy I had met on LIVEJOURNAL that I really liked. I would listen to his voicemail every few days and re-save it so it wouldn't get deleted. I had it for MONTHS.

1. For a few years in high school, I had a crinkled one-dollar bill taped to my door. Why? Well, I had received it from a boy I liked after I had lent him a dollar. (Honorable mention: I once lent a different boy five dollars in grade 8, and kept his folded five-spot in my diary for about two years.)

BONUS

In high school, I would delete all the "unimportant" phone calls from my call logs so I could marvel over the 2 hour call I had with a guy that I liked. I was distraught when I made more than 10 phone calls without deleting the logs and lost the "important" log. Seriously. When I "lost it" I cried.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Souvenir?

Summer after I completed 10th grade, my mom and I were planning on moving back to Reno where I grew up.

Side-post: I grew up in Reno. This is why I'm single. /side-post

I went on myspace to see if I could find some friends to hang out with while I visited for a week or so with my mom and so I'd know some people when we moved. I was talking to this guy named Tony for a few nights and he actually wanted to hang out. I was ecstatic. He was cute. Let's just say I had a little problem with shyness. He and his friend were going to have band practice and although the focus clearly wouldn't have been on me, I insisted on stationing myself in his closet. When I got there, though, I was sad to see that there was no way in hell I could get in there without breaking god knows whatever was in there, if at all. So, I planted myself in the loveseat-chair-thing. I got incredibly nervous because his friend kept asking me questions and I pulled my hood over my head to feel more secure, kept my hands over my mouth whenever I laughed at anything, chewed on my sleeve, and freaked out when he wanted to hug me. Tony threw a stuffed walrus at me for me to cuddle and I hugged it for a while.

When I got home and unpacked, I saw a little piece of fuzz from the stuffed walrus. I picked it off and taped it to my computer monitor. Although I stopped using that monitor and got a laptop, the fuzz was still taped to it when we moved in February of this year.

This is why I'm single.

on getting drunk

A FEW SUMMERS AGO, I SPENT A LOT OF TIME WITH MY TWO BEST FRIENDS

So, yes, I'm drinking with Alyssa at our friend's brother's apartment. I got crazy drunk, as I was a high school girl surrounded by a lot of cool older kids (think the kids that ate ice cream in Disney's "The Weekenders") that just needed to loosen up. Thing is, I loosened up a bit too much.

So, guys, there are two things that ended up happening. The first is that I called Tyler. I locked myself in the bathroom and professed my love for Tyler via telephone. In several languages. At one point, I was told, Joe's (he's coming up in a minute) older brother knocked on the door and told me that my Japanese wasn't making any sense.

So, basically, my conversation with Tyler was my drunkenly moaning "TYLERRRRR!!! I LOOOOOVE YOU! WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME? I LOVE YOU SOOOOO MUCH．愛してるタイレル大好きよ．一年生の時からタイレルだけ大好きゃ" and so on. At one point, I set the phone down on the bathroom tile, threw up, and picked the phone up again.

I eventually hung up (called him back, and hung up again), and returned to the common room. As it turned out, during my tanked telephone tirade, most of the people had left or fallen asleep. I found myself with Joe- a guy that I had liked through most of high school (although, with the number of people I liked during high school, it isn't saying much)- and his older brother. While Joe was using the restroom, I told Joe's brother (rather loudly, I believe) that I really liked Joe, and when he got back his brother left us alone. We made awkward conversation, and then Joe kissed me. What Joe didn't know is that I had just thrown up, and the last time I was kissed was in elementary school. I freaked out, and because I'm an emasculating bitch by nature, started laughing in his face because of how nervous I was.

HE LEFT.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

PS- THE NEXT DAY, I SAW TYLER AND IT WAS AWKWARD AS HELL

Achoo.

You know when you drink something and laugh it tends to come out your nose? It usually happens in cartoons with milk. Well, that's happened to me a few times. It's happened with beverages, possibly milk, and definitely apple cider. Oh, and ovaltine.

I was having dinner at my best friend, Layla's house with some other friends. I think it was pasta of some sort and I was drinking sparkling apple cider. I took a large sip and just as I was swallowing, Layla said "Achoo." She didn't sneeze. She didn't yell and startle me. She simply said the word "Achoo." It made me laugh so hard that I choked and spit the cider ALL OVER THE TABLE and myself and sat there coughing and choking for a few minutes until I could breathe again.

You'd think after that I wouldn't drink in front of Layla, but I did. I was having some ovaltine and I guess it wasn't dissolved completely in my milk because after I took a sip, there were some small (delicious) powder-lumps and Layla said "Did you just crunch?!" Repeat cider scene, substitute table for my kitchen floor/counter.

Layla was not present at these times, but it's also happened with a piece of strawberry, a piece of fortune cookie, a piece of red licorice, and a two-inch long noodle. I was eating and either laughed or coughed and a while later, I felt an uncomfortable tickle and these items propelled forth from my nostril into the tissue I was holding.

In one case, the fortune cookie, it happened in front of people in the car.

I would say that from these happenings I can never go on a date that possibly involves food or drink, but I need not worry because "This is why I'm single."

on rejection

I'm almost positive that when Steinberg email-rejected me (YES, LAUGH IT UP BITCHES) I wrote back and signed it as "Mudkip". I think this speaks for itself.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Award-winning vocabulary.

We all go through phases of foods we really like and eat a lot of for a period of time, right? I had a thing for bacon in around 9th grade. I cooked and ate an entire package of it in three days. I felt the need to tell people how I felt about bacon at the time, but unfortunately misunderstood and misused a particular word I used to describe those feelings.

"I have a bacon fetish!"

I have no idea how many people I said that to until I realized that "fetish" did not mean simply "I enjoy this thing" and nothing more.

This is why I'm single.

on eating

In high school, while at my friend's apartment, I fell asleep. I awoke full and hearing laughter.

What happened, you might ask?

Dear reader, let me tell you what happened. As I napped, my friend "prepared a meal" for me and tried to feed me in my sleep.

I ate everything.

THIS IS DEFINITELY WHY I'M SINGLE

Subtle as a brick.

A few summers ago, I spent a lot of time with my two best friends. We hung out a lot at my guy best friend's brother's apartment and he had a few parties we attended. I had a huge crush on his brother and, of course, chose the most dignified and sexy way to inform him.

I had a few drinks at the party while playing Kings and chatting, and since I'm such a light weight and neglected to eat very much that day I got pretty drunk. Perfect. Somehow I ended up alone on the floor of his room, which for whatever reason had no lights. He wandered in and looked down at me and I yelled "Tooonyyy, I love you!!!" He was, with good reason, confused and didn't say anything to his little brother's crazy chick friend drunk on the floor of his bedroom. I went on... "Love mee... LOOOVVEEE MEEEEEEEE!" He walked out and for the next I don't even know how long I kept saying "AI SHITERU!" and he kept trying to tell me that he didn't know what I was even saying because he hadn't taken Japanese in forever, but I repeated myself anyway.

I stopped after my friend told me that I was embarrassing myself. I insisted that I wasn't, but I stopped professing my love anyway.

The next morning was spent playing Mario Kart in the livingroom and every once in a while someone would say "LOOVE MEEEEE."

Tony doesn't remember that occurrence... but is far from attracted to me nonetheless.

This is why I'm single.

That's hot.

A few years ago, I had a guy over and I began to partake in a particular activity. A few seconds in, I my nose started bleeding. I didn't get any on him, but I ran to the bathroom to take care of it, and when I returned to my room he was up and ready to go home.

He never spoke to me again.

This is why I'm single.

Cool girl.

There's this video rental place I used to live by called Vidiots. Now, I thought that all places charged you late fees up until the price of the actual movie or game you rented. I forgot to turn in my movie for possibly three months, and was unpleasantly shocked to be notified of about a $104 late fee.

A $104 late fee for what movie?

It must have been one AMAZING film, right?

Balto.

This is why I'm single.

Things one shouldn't save in plastic baggies.

This idea spawned from a facebook IM conversation. My hair had been shedding a lot and I kept finding it on myself, and everywhere else. From that, we decided I would save all of the hair that I found that had fallen out in a ziplock bag and tie ribbons around small bunches of it for christmas presents. Or, that I should mail it all to him when I had enough for him to bathe in. I don't think I will actually do that, however I have a hello kitty ziplock bag that contains a good amount of stray hairs from my head... taped to the wall of my bedroom for visitors to see.

...I don't get visitors.

This is why I'm single.

The one that got away. Or rather, ran at breakneck speed. One of many.

I was sort of involved with a guy over a year ago, nothing official, but I was pretty into it. He was too, for a while. He ended up just cutting me off completely and I wasn't sure if there was something that I had said or done to upset or annoy him, or if perhaps something had happened to him. I sent him some messages asking what was up and he'd never reply. I don't remember if I called or not. After a few weeks I was pretty upset and concerned, so I asked a friend of his if he knew what was up. I guess he'd been a little off with everyone lately, but I wanted to do something to get him to speak to me again. Somehow the conclusion was drawn that I should write him a physical letter and send it, and bel-air him in it somewhere.

Oh, a letter I wrote.

Not only did I write him a letter, but since I had just cut my hair I decided it would be hilarious to stuff some of it in the envelope as a joke. Here, guy, have something to remember me by. I probably also covered the envelope in an absurd amount of stickers.

Here's the letter I wrote, it's pretty bad. Ok, it's awful:


-->

My dearest Sunshine,

My head is pregnant with thoughts of you. My brain is an oocyte, and you are the sperm. When I think about you, I touch myself. I take my hand and swirl my fingers around a container of petroleum jelly and proceed to rub my elbows in small circles, slowly, sensually. I took a picture of you and had it blown up. I then had it silk screened onto a blanket which I hump vigorously on a nightly basis. I saved all of our conversations over AIM and lined my walls with print-outs. Sometimes when I’m lonely and missing you, when it just becomes unbearable, I like to suck on the papers, lick them, and have a passionate makeout session while listening to your band. Your voice fills my ears with bliss, penetrating my heart, coursing through my veins. You invade my soul. *****, my love, every time we touch I feel the static. It’s an unbelievable sensation coursing through every nerve cell in my many-celled body, and I find myself craving it more and more. Every time we touch, I get this feeling… Every time we kiss, I swear I can fly, but I realize I am mistaken when I crash to the bottom of a cliff. My heart beats fast, I want this to last… *****, I NEED YOU IN MY LIFE. Do you understand me? ***** ***** *****, GOD DAMNIT.

I am unquenchably thirsty for you. Your voice, your face, your pubic hair, your scent, every ounce of cytoplasm present in your body. You make me want to la la. In the kitchen, on the floor. You make me want to scream… HARDER, OH YES, HARDER, OOOOOOOOOH.

When I stare at you, it’s like I’m melting in your eyes like the first time I caught fire and Dorothy poured water on me and I melted into a pile of green plasma excited to its highest state. I want to consume you. I want to ingest you. I want to feel you inside me and never poop so that you’ll be with me always and forever. John, you are my only, my only one. Every aching moment I’m without you is as hard to deal with, to get through, to live in, as a pigeon which has a shoe for a beak and feet for wings. I want to be everything you need, desire, and love. I want to power spawn your babies, four hundred babies. Without you I am empty, invisible, and hopeless. In West Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days… alone. My life had no meaning until I came across the breathtaking beauty that was your pixels. The pixels of your photos, of your words, they awakened me from my seemingly everlasting slumber, they brought me back from the empty void, the black hole that was my heart. As I end this letter, I leave you with a gift, a token of my undying love for you. Take this hair wad and cherish it always.

Truly and forever…ly yours… ly,

Pompandalyssa

((Atashi wo ite mo ii nai<3 span="">

**His name isn't John, so I left that there.

This is definitely why I'm single.

Edit: Somehow this was one of the ones I ended up cutting off after rekindling our whatever some years later.

Too much information? Never.

Whenever I am pooping, I will send a mass text to certain friends exclaiming (proudly), "POOPING!"

Edit2016: Accidentally sent one of those texts to my stepmom some years back and whenever I visit she asks if I still text my friends when I'm pooping...

This is why I'm single.

One time...

I was with a few friends at a 7-11 around 3am. We had been smoking and wanted to get some snacks, so I got one of those really cheap cherry pie things in the paper wrappers. I started eating my pie outside on the sidewalk as we were talking and I decided there was entirely too much cherry goo in there. So, I squeezed the crust together and a gob of goo bulged out and plopped onto the ground. I did this a few times until I deemed the pie edible again and had goo ALL over my hands and the parking lot. I awkwardly opened the doors of the store with my palms and a pinky finger, retrieved some napkins, and did my best to clean my hands up. All the while everyone saying "OH THAT'S SO GROSS," and me wailing "...Is this why I'm single?"