I am awkward.

It's been, what, two months since I've updated this thing? I realize real life happens more often than once every two or three months, but I don't update it as often as real life happens. I mean, I'd have to update it every day. How exhausting. Not to mention mundane. "Just took another breath. Our house smells weird so it was mildly unsatisfactory." Thrilling. But hey, I write in my journal once a week. Okay, fine, sometimes once every two weeks. Get off my back.

Anyway, instead of talking about finishing my first semester of law school and taking finals and scrubbing the bathroom for 2.5 hours today and burning my lungs with the fumes, I thought I'd update the blogging world about my love life. Don't worry, it'll be short. The update: nothing new. Still nothing on the horizon. Why, you ask? Check out the title of this post. I. Am. Awkward. Horrifically so. Allow me to list a few experiences to illustrate. (I like lists because they're logical and organized. It's nice.)

1. Once upon a time, I was trying to flip my hair in a sexy way. I was leaning against a door while attempting this. I did not succeed in flipping in my hair in a sexy way, but I did succeed in smacking my head against the door and making everyone around me laugh.

2. A (very attractive) boy was drinking out of my water bottle, prompting me to make a face. He told me not to pretend I didn't like it, and I answered (rather wittily, I thought), "Yeah, now I have your DNA. I can clone you!" Well. That didn't go over quite as well as I thought it would. I laughed, because I thought it was funny. That's why I said it. He stared at me for a full minute and then said, "That was sort of creepy." Hmm. Too bad.

3. I was recently at a bridal shower for one of my old roommates. There was a lot of food there, most notably chili and cornbread. Then her aunt brought out what looked like a bowl of mashed potatoes. It was sort of a smallish bowl, considering how many people were there, but I didn't think much of it--I was excited for mashed potatoes. I asked one of my other roommates who was there, "Are those mashed potatoes?" and she answered in the affirmative. So I took a big scoop and then decided I couldn't wait to get some potatoes in my mouth. I took a giant bite. And then I discovered it was not mashed potatoes. No, instead, it was honey butter. You know, for the cornbread? So there I was, a giant wad of honey butter on my tongue, and I didn't know what to do. Should I spit it out? That's gross. Should I swallow it? That's also gross. But there were many people around me, many people I did not know and was not comfortable with, and I panicked, so, next thing I knew, my esophagus was contracting and a mouthful of honey butter was sliiiiiiding on down. So gross.

4. Our ward had a talent show a little while back, and there was pizza afterward. My FHE brother was standing by the pizza, and I wanted to congratulate him on his super awesome performance. Somehow, I gesticulated so emphatically that I actually managed to flip over a box of pizza at him. Luckily, I caught most of the pizza, but it was still embarrassing. His eyes got all wide and I believe he said something to the effect of, "Ahhhh, whoa whoa whoa!" Later, when my roommates and I left, I noticed I had pizza sauce all over both sleeves.

5. All semester, I have had a semi-secret half-crush on a boy in two of my classes. At the beginning of the semester, I was accidentally rude to him, so he doesn't really like me or talk to me. We were walking past each other in the carrels. I was deep in thought, really contemplating super important things. (To be exact, I was thinking about what I was going to eat for dinner when I got home.) I didn't really notice when he said very cheerily, "Ready for contracts?!" I sort of grunted at him and kept walking. He hasn't tried talking to me since. This is actually something that happens semi-often to me--people think I'm kind of mean, but really I'm just sort of lost in my own head somewhere and don't realize that they're talking to me until after the moment's passed, or I don't realize whatever I'm doing is rude. The thing is, being a sociology major doesn't mean I understand social norms or mores--it just means I know what those are and why they're important for society. I don't relate to other people all that well, and sometimes I'm downright flabbergasted by what's an acceptable interaction and what's not. You might say I'm sort of like an alien. Or I might say that, because I kind of like the idea. (Another weird quirk for another time...)

So there you have it. While these stories are entertaining, they also show how incredibly not smooth I am. I have this grand dream that someday a boy will find my awkwardness hilariously endearing. I'll trip over my own feet and he'll smile and say, "You're cute." I'll say something slightly creepy and he'll laugh because he understands my sense of humor. Hopefully, he'll see me about to take a giant bite of honey butter and rescue me before I put it in my mouth or after I say something rude he'll explain ever so gently, "That was rude, dumbo. Normal humans don't like to be told they're wrong every second of every day." Think of how my life will improve when this man enters it! I hope he exists or can be conjured up some time soon. I say conjured up because I am not opposed to magic. Or if they invent some of kind robot humans, I could handle that. Obviously an actual human male would be the most ideal, but I'm keeping my options open just in case.