Strangely enough, my junior English class consisted of pretty much the same people as my American Studies classes, including - of course - Jane. I was excited to become closer friends with this same group of guys and girls. If I still had any inclination towards pursuing Jane (which I didn't, if you missed the previous post), it would have been crushed early on that year, as I was told that Jane was going out with a guy named Clint. And therein lies the problem; therein lies the conundrum that is Jane. If some girl is so perfect, so wonderful, you're forced to compete with pretty much everyone. Clint is a great guy, and a good friend of mine, so once again I shrugged it off and cheered the Clint and Jane relationship on.
That junior English class was definitely one of my favorites. I learned a fair amount from the actual schoolwork, but I learned even more about myself as a person. Up till that point, I had been an average writer who had a large vocabulary and good grasp of grammar. The opportunity to write "OP's" or occasional papers, helped me find my voice as a writer. It also helped me to gain a little fame from my classmates, including Jane. For some inexplicable reason, my papers always entertained the class, and when it came to our final OP I was concerned about living up to the hype. Pardon my blatant lack of humility, but my final OP rocked. Now does my ability to write witty or humorous passages actually give me a better chance with girls? In general, I would say no, but Jane does love anything intellectual.
Anyhow, I just remembered that I accidentally glossed over a fairly major moment from my sophomore year. I apologize for going out of order (assuming anyone actually reads this blog). For my sweet sixteen birthday party, my mom decided to have a surprise party. Through my keen intellect and brilliant intuition, I figured this out. In other words, my mom was a little mum about my birthday, and I caught a couple of my friends, Jane included, acting a wee bit strangely. Well, the surprise party came, and Jane was among the invitees. Some of the activities might have embarrassed me, but I have a good group of friends that took everything in stride, and I had a bunch of fun. Jane coming to my party was really cool, because I wasn't uber close with her at that point in time. Well, thought I'd just put that down, because it is interesting to note that she went to all three of my birthdays in high school.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
The First Roadblock
My sophomore year was all pretty much the same. After first term, I never sat by Jane again and we would talk every once in a while, but we didn't ever really hang out or talk for very long. I had a little bit of a crush on her, but there were plenty of cute girls in high school, and I never thought to much about it. Even if I had wanted to pursue a more direct course with Jane, though, a new roadblock emerged about halfway through my sophomore year. Grant was the second of my friends to fall for Jane (I guess technically, I was second, but when I look back at my feelings, I think I still just had a mini-crush on her at that time, so I don't count that). When Grant told me that he liked her, I was a little upset at first, but decided that I didn't really have a chance anyway so I might as well support him. Eventually that set a precedent that began to tear me apart the more I followed it.
Grant and I personality-wise are in someways polar opposites, but in terms of interests and experiences, we're practically twins. More to the point, both Grant and I are hopeless romantics who - apparently foolishly - think that just being a nice guy will get you the girl in the end. We share many of the same ups and down when it comes to that other gender, and for a while, I guess, we shared the same girl. That spring, Grant, a budding musician, wrote a few songs, one of which was about Jane. It had some sappy moments in it like any good love song, but overall I really liked it. One night, Jane approached me after hearing the song and asked me if Grant's song was "just a song". The worried look on her face pretty much revealed what she hoped the answer would be. Once again I was in an uncomfortable situation, the discomfort only exacerbated by the fact that I kind of liked her too. I think I came up with the best answer I could at the time, a truthful and unassuming, "I think he might kind of like you, but its just a song".
I'm not really sure what happened after that, but soon after Grant and Jane became just friends, and Grant still raves about how great it is to be just friends with her. So even though my first roadblock was fairly short and inconsequential, I knew there would be more ahead. The next one was summer, because I still hadn't established much of a rapport with her or her friends, and I knew that we wouldn't be hanging out. While many of my thoughts still lingered on Jane, there was another girl I often thought of that summer. American Studies had introduced me to yet another girl, Kristen. She had flown under the radar for all of junior high, and I knew I had stumbled upon a gold mine. It turned out I was correct, too correct sadly, and Kristen came back her Junior year, stunning every one with her lavish beauty, and - before I could make a move - found a football player boyfriend. Thus, I entered my Junior year with Jane merely lingering in my thoughts, with hopes of finding some girl more attainable to chase after.
Grant and I personality-wise are in someways polar opposites, but in terms of interests and experiences, we're practically twins. More to the point, both Grant and I are hopeless romantics who - apparently foolishly - think that just being a nice guy will get you the girl in the end. We share many of the same ups and down when it comes to that other gender, and for a while, I guess, we shared the same girl. That spring, Grant, a budding musician, wrote a few songs, one of which was about Jane. It had some sappy moments in it like any good love song, but overall I really liked it. One night, Jane approached me after hearing the song and asked me if Grant's song was "just a song". The worried look on her face pretty much revealed what she hoped the answer would be. Once again I was in an uncomfortable situation, the discomfort only exacerbated by the fact that I kind of liked her too. I think I came up with the best answer I could at the time, a truthful and unassuming, "I think he might kind of like you, but its just a song".
I'm not really sure what happened after that, but soon after Grant and Jane became just friends, and Grant still raves about how great it is to be just friends with her. So even though my first roadblock was fairly short and inconsequential, I knew there would be more ahead. The next one was summer, because I still hadn't established much of a rapport with her or her friends, and I knew that we wouldn't be hanging out. While many of my thoughts still lingered on Jane, there was another girl I often thought of that summer. American Studies had introduced me to yet another girl, Kristen. She had flown under the radar for all of junior high, and I knew I had stumbled upon a gold mine. It turned out I was correct, too correct sadly, and Kristen came back her Junior year, stunning every one with her lavish beauty, and - before I could make a move - found a football player boyfriend. Thus, I entered my Junior year with Jane merely lingering in my thoughts, with hopes of finding some girl more attainable to chase after.
Reappearances
My sophomore American Studies class was great. I had two intelligent teachers, and I always felt like I was learning things. I know that this is the point of school, but it really doesn't happen very much for me. I had plenty of previous friends in that class, and it would turn out that many more of my classmates would eventually become my main circle of friends. One of these classmates was Jane. Jeff no longer had a crush on her - as far as I knew - and I wondered if I would have an excuse to talk to her. Luckily, fate intervened. When we were first assigned to tables, Jane and I were placed together. I still didn't entertain any ideas, however. I am horribly shy around girls, and I knew that even sitting next to her didn't guarantee anything.
Thankfully, I had two things going for me. First, Jane is the nicest and most engaging girl you'll ever meet. She is extremely outgoing and if a girl decides to talk to me, I'm actually not that bad at maintaining conversation. It's the starting conversations part that has me beat. Anyways, the next thing to help me out was our first big report. There were only so many topics that we could cover for our first term paper and consequently we were allowed to double up on each topic. I chose Fruitlands, a transcendentalist Utopian community that ultimately -just like every other Utopian community out there - failed. As you might have guessed, Jane chose that topic as well.
We shared ideas together, and I admit, as the first term went by, the cheerleader Kibby fast faded from my mind. The last thing I will mention in this post is an event that was both confusing and bittersweet (a combination that I have grown accustomed to when dealing with Jane and perhaps girls in general). I had a hard time finding books on Fruitlands, and I had talked to Jane about borrowing a couple of her books. One day she was in the commons area with a gaggle of girls around her. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I decided to walk up and ask her if she had those books for me to borrow. Girls are always most dangerous when they are in a pack, and I knew this despite my lack of age and experience. I guess Jane's outgoing and friendly attitude had made me a little overconfident.
I kneeled down behind her, because she and her posse were all sitting down. A kneel was the correct way to go, was it not? I didn't want to sit because that would imply I meant to stay for a while, and standing seemed ridiculous as well. Regardless, I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around and all the girls burst into a fit of giggles. Man, I hate giggles. Among the exclamations was the statement, "He's even kneeling!" Hence, my insecurity about my choice to kneel. Jane eventually stopped laughing and I, feeling incredibly foolish, mumbled something about borrowing books, to which she apologetically replied that she didn't have them at the time. With my tail between my legs I hightailed it out of that horribly awkward situation and was left to ponder the event.
And what sort of ponderings meandered around my head? Well, I was definitely embarrassed by the whole situation. Certainly there had to be something to the giggling. Now, I supposed that they could have been talking about how stupid I was, and laughed at the irony of me showing up at that moment. However, despite a lack of experience with the opposite gender, I still felt that they were probably talking about me, and that it might be in a good light. So feelings of embarrassment mingled with feelings of hope, and I was needless to say, a bit bewildered.
Thankfully, I had two things going for me. First, Jane is the nicest and most engaging girl you'll ever meet. She is extremely outgoing and if a girl decides to talk to me, I'm actually not that bad at maintaining conversation. It's the starting conversations part that has me beat. Anyways, the next thing to help me out was our first big report. There were only so many topics that we could cover for our first term paper and consequently we were allowed to double up on each topic. I chose Fruitlands, a transcendentalist Utopian community that ultimately -just like every other Utopian community out there - failed. As you might have guessed, Jane chose that topic as well.
We shared ideas together, and I admit, as the first term went by, the cheerleader Kibby fast faded from my mind. The last thing I will mention in this post is an event that was both confusing and bittersweet (a combination that I have grown accustomed to when dealing with Jane and perhaps girls in general). I had a hard time finding books on Fruitlands, and I had talked to Jane about borrowing a couple of her books. One day she was in the commons area with a gaggle of girls around her. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I decided to walk up and ask her if she had those books for me to borrow. Girls are always most dangerous when they are in a pack, and I knew this despite my lack of age and experience. I guess Jane's outgoing and friendly attitude had made me a little overconfident.
I kneeled down behind her, because she and her posse were all sitting down. A kneel was the correct way to go, was it not? I didn't want to sit because that would imply I meant to stay for a while, and standing seemed ridiculous as well. Regardless, I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around and all the girls burst into a fit of giggles. Man, I hate giggles. Among the exclamations was the statement, "He's even kneeling!" Hence, my insecurity about my choice to kneel. Jane eventually stopped laughing and I, feeling incredibly foolish, mumbled something about borrowing books, to which she apologetically replied that she didn't have them at the time. With my tail between my legs I hightailed it out of that horribly awkward situation and was left to ponder the event.
And what sort of ponderings meandered around my head? Well, I was definitely embarrassed by the whole situation. Certainly there had to be something to the giggling. Now, I supposed that they could have been talking about how stupid I was, and laughed at the irony of me showing up at that moment. However, despite a lack of experience with the opposite gender, I still felt that they were probably talking about me, and that it might be in a good light. So feelings of embarrassment mingled with feelings of hope, and I was needless to say, a bit bewildered.
The Intro
The time is ninth grade. That wonderful time when you were at the top of the junior high social ladder and you eagerly awaited the joys of high school (o! the ignorant bliss of youth). It was business as usual, I had a crush on the cheerleader of my dreams, Kibby. Yeah, Kibby. It was one of those perfect infatuations. Kibby was gorgeous, popular, and totally out of my league. Thus I didn't have to worry about interacting with her, and I could simply admire her from afar. I had liked Kibby for a few years by then, so I was simply staying the course. One of my friends, however, rocked the boat.
Jeff, one of my closest friends, up until this point had never revealed who he liked, and since revealing who you like is the fundamental makeup of junior high existence, this was a bit odd. Finally, I managed to wring some information out of Jeff. He liked a girl named Jane. This was great! I managed to tease him as much as possible - after all, I had to make up for the three or four years I missed out on - and got a couple glimpses of Jane. She was in student government and she seemed pretty popular (not cheerleader popular, the having-lots-of-friends kind).
Well, fast forward a couple months, and we are approaching the end of ninth grade. It was the final dance before we all go on our merry way to high school. Streamers haphazardly lined the walls and the doorways, I think their was confetti sprinkled on the floor. Coincidentally, I exchanged greetings with Kibby near the beginning of that dance, which would normally have been a colossal event in my life. The brief interchange with my long-time crush, however, was overshadowed by another exchange while I was with my friend Jeff. Jeff and I were cruising the dance like the cool ninth graders we were when Jane approached us. Hi Jeff. Hi Jane. This is my friend Skye. Hi Skye. Hi Jane. Looking back, I marvel that something so simple and innocuous as this brief greeting ultimately set in motion an alarmingly complex relationship that became the focus of my life.
I don't remember exactly why, but for some reason Jane next felt both of our biceps. Now I'm no Terminator, but I do have bigger biceps then Jeff. She then gave me a nod of approval and complimented my manly physique. She left, and I wouldn't see her again for a while. I felt a little funny inside, but I figured that was because I had just been complimented by a girl - even if it was in jest - for perhaps the first time ever. I was positively tickled. And while I still spent that summer talking about how hot Kibby was, I often thought about the last dance of ninth grade and the girl Jeff had a crush on.
Jeff, one of my closest friends, up until this point had never revealed who he liked, and since revealing who you like is the fundamental makeup of junior high existence, this was a bit odd. Finally, I managed to wring some information out of Jeff. He liked a girl named Jane. This was great! I managed to tease him as much as possible - after all, I had to make up for the three or four years I missed out on - and got a couple glimpses of Jane. She was in student government and she seemed pretty popular (not cheerleader popular, the having-lots-of-friends kind).
Well, fast forward a couple months, and we are approaching the end of ninth grade. It was the final dance before we all go on our merry way to high school. Streamers haphazardly lined the walls and the doorways, I think their was confetti sprinkled on the floor. Coincidentally, I exchanged greetings with Kibby near the beginning of that dance, which would normally have been a colossal event in my life. The brief interchange with my long-time crush, however, was overshadowed by another exchange while I was with my friend Jeff. Jeff and I were cruising the dance like the cool ninth graders we were when Jane approached us. Hi Jeff. Hi Jane. This is my friend Skye. Hi Skye. Hi Jane. Looking back, I marvel that something so simple and innocuous as this brief greeting ultimately set in motion an alarmingly complex relationship that became the focus of my life.
I don't remember exactly why, but for some reason Jane next felt both of our biceps. Now I'm no Terminator, but I do have bigger biceps then Jeff. She then gave me a nod of approval and complimented my manly physique. She left, and I wouldn't see her again for a while. I felt a little funny inside, but I figured that was because I had just been complimented by a girl - even if it was in jest - for perhaps the first time ever. I was positively tickled. And while I still spent that summer talking about how hot Kibby was, I often thought about the last dance of ninth grade and the girl Jeff had a crush on.
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