Fasten your seatbelts...

...It's gonna be a bumpy POST.

Okay, so here's me being all sappy again. Got it?
I'm such a film fanatic and I hate that I'm the only one that way. All my friends regard me as The Wise Movie Watcher, but it's just because I love old movies. The way they talked, the way they dressed, even the way they kissed--opposed to the Attack Eachother with Your Tongues method most teens use today. Also, sex was regarded as a taboo. Even just mentioning "sex" as a word was basically forbidden. I was watching an old movie called Peyton Place and the MCs were talking about relationships. The guy MC was like, "But my mother is so protective of me. I haven't even kissed a girl."
And the girl MC goes, "Would you like to try with me?"
The guy immediately gasps and is basically freaking out that she mentioned kissing and blah blah blah.
But it just goes to show how...how pure the olden days were.

To the point:
You know how I'm all "Gah, my life is boring and I need/want a boyfriend", right? (Hopeless romantic right here, look no further, folks.) Well then I got to thinking--my ideal boyfriend would be a guy who could sit down and watch old-time movies with me. And not snore. Or complain. Or whine about playin CoD instead. But at the same time, it wouldn't be to the verge of (forgive my bluntness) gayness.
You understand what I mean, don't you?
Why, yes, I do realize that I'm being a complete saphead. Do I care? No. Would I love to quit being such a romantic? Yes.
Can I help that?
N. To. The O.
So here's me on a Wednesday, chickenpox and hepatitis shots in my left arm annoying the hell out of me, and I'm sitting at a computer playing out fantasies of my ideal boyfriend.
God, I'm such an idiot.

On to more "important" things, I suppose?
Good.
Here's me making a checklist of what I value in a man/boy/as long as he's got a weewee, I'm good:

INTELLIGENCE - I really value the "smartness" in a guy. Honestly, I'd take a blubbering calculus nerd over a dimwitted football quarterback any day. My friends Linda and Vinci were talking this one day during the school year about "which guy is, like, totally hot". Mind you, I'm not trying to put them down in any way--rather the opposite, I respect their opinions and am trying to make a point out of them. I'm not gonna name names here, but here's how the conversation went as far as I can remember.
L: Okay, you know who I think is hot?
V: Who?
L: Guy #1. Okay, so the other day I was watching him walk down the hall and his shirt was, like, swishing against his stomach and I could see the outline of his body and I'm like, "Oh my god, I want his abs." Like, have you seen them? They're, like, dancer's stomach!
V: Are you serious? Well, okay, you know who I think is hot?
L: Who?!
V: Guy #2. I mean, seriously, if looks were the only factor in liking someone, I'd be completely in love with him.
L: Oh my god, yes. He's probably the hottest guy at school. Seriously.
V: What about Guy #3? He's really hot. Like, really. That's why he's probably the most popular Asian.
L: I know!
Me: Um. Guys. Seriously? You think Guy #3 is hot? He's a little...I dunno. I just...I dunno.
V: You don't think Guy #3 is hot?
Me: ...No.
V: Who do you think is hot?
Me: Um. Uh. Honestly? None of the guys you just mentioned.
L: What? Geesh.
Me: ...
V: Oh my god, Guy #4 is really hot, too.
That's basically the story of my life.

HUMOR - I cannot stand being with a guy that doesn't have a sense of humor. I don't care if it's whacked up or sadistic or whatever, as long as you've got it, I'm good.
I think it's because I'm one of those tightass girls that always answer correctly during class, and I can't stand being with a tightass guy.
(Forgive my cussing. I'm feeling very loose tonight.)
But yeah, if there's a guy that's absolutely hilarious, I'll definitely fall for him. Definitely.
If only, if only...

ROMANTIC AT HEART - Okay. Okay, I admit it. I do want a guy that'll bring me chocolates on Valentine's and roses on my birthday.
Sue me.
But honestly, I just... Ugh. I sound pathetic. And to nobody. Honestly, who's gonna take the time to read all this crap I've posted?
Nobody.
When I go to school, which one of my classmates is gonna look past that rock-hard, edgy tightass Pick Me Pick Me girl and see that I'm actually a hopeless romantic?
Nobody.
Who shares the same odd taste for Audrey Hepburn films, white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, and  trying to bother old Michigan friends when they obviously don't want to talk to "that girl that moved a couple years ago...what was her name? Mary? Millicent?"
Nobody.
To quote Emily Dickinson, the great poet herself, I am Nobody. Who are you? Are you Nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us, don't tell! They'd banish us, you know. How dreary to be Somebody. How public, like a frog. To tell your name the livelong day to an admiring bog!

Great. Now I'm reciting poems from memory.
I suppose this is my cue to go to bed. I do hope that Sista Beavah--Lina Briare, yo yo, check it, dawg--arises from the dead.

And now, to quote my favorite movie: "Barbarian yawp! YAWWWWWP!"

DAM IT NOT-SO-MUCH ALL,
BEAVER