This story is of little consequence, which makes me very happy to have my own little piece of the internet to share it.

I talked to Adorable Boy yesterday.  We talked about books.  Not literature, but the actual books he was checking out.  And not so much about their content as their physical location in the library.

He came to pick up three books.  Only one was where it was supposed to be.  I had to go search for another.  And the third was nowhere to be found.  So our conversation (and calling it that is definitely a stretch) was mostly about how I couldn’t find his books.

I played it cool, which is usually my problem, because playing cool for me is pretending to be indifferent–a weird defense mechanism that’s sure to set me up nice for a life of solitude.  This time, though, probably from lack of sleep because I’d been up too late the night before and too early that morning working on a midterm paper, I played it cool for real.  I can’t seem to remember anything I actually said, but I definitely remember saying things.

I couldn’t find the third book anywhere.  I said we would keep searching and asked him if he would mind picking it up later.  He didn’t mind, because he’s a super nice person (it’s a significant part of what makes him adorable).  I continued searching for the book.  I’d do the same for any library patron.  Once I found it, I emailed to let him know I’d located the book and he could pick it up.  I would also do that for any library patron, but maybe I was just a little more excited about it than usual.

When he ended his reply with, “thanks Ashley,” I smiled.  I’d like to think we’re on a first name basis now.

. . . ummmmmmmm, desperation?

So, I talked to Adorable Boy yesterday. At the library. About books. I mean, as I checked books out to him. To summarize, I am hopeless. Seriously, I couldn’t even remember all of your good advice to, you know, ask him how he’s doing.

For those of you who don’t know how truly pathetic I am, Adorable Boy is a PhD student I kind of like. And, I’ve kind of liked him for a few years now, which isn’t quite as sad as it sounds, because for the first couple years, I just thought he was adorable and nothing more. I was distracted by someone else, but I told Lisa about this adorable boy who came into the library sometimes, and we started calling him Adorable Boy. It wasn’t until this year that I started looking at him seriously. And, that was the beginning of the end.

It’s not just that he’s adorable and I am not. It’s more that I do not wear my personality on my sleeve and I do not make an impression unless you have days, months, years to get to know me (or you read my blog). The fact that I actually like him just makes everything worse, because I’m even more inhibited when I’m nervous.

I long ago accepted that I wasn’t going to win him over with my shiny hair and ability to check books out quickly. No, I would have to actually work at this. That’s where I hit a wall. The problem is that I study Philosophy of Religion and Theology, while he studies New Testament, so we don’t have classes together. I know people who know him, but we don’t really have any mutual friends. So, I only see him in the library when I’m working, and as I’ve stated above, I don’t know how to do anything with those tiny moments of time, so we’ve never had a conversation that went beyond “It’s nice outside today, isn’t it?” or “Wow, this is a lot of books to check out.”

I’m just fed up with myself.  I’m tired of sitting around waiting and wishing.  And, I hate that what seems so easy to other people feels impossible to me.

I’ve tried to keep it under wraps, but you probably already suspect it. Yes, I’m pathetic. I’m a pathetic, desperate, sad little girl. But, only when it comes to boys! Most everything else I have figured out for now; at least, I’m moving in the right direction. I support myself. I have a job with good health insurance and paid vacation. I’m doing really well in a difficult grad program. I’m setting myself up for a career in the academy. I’m physically and mentally healthy. And, I have good relationships with my family, friends, coworkers, and classmates. It’s just this one area where I am totally deficient.

I had it all planned out in my mind! Adorable Boy approaches the desk. I, looking fabulous of course, say, “Hi. How are you?” (that was kahea’s brilliant idea). He answers, we chat, smile, smile, Lisa owes me $5 or something, and we’ve made progress. I’ve had time to think about this, because it’s been weeks since I’ve seen him!

But, it didn’t happen that way at all. I was sitting outside the library, which I never do, talking to my friend Elyse on the phone, which I never do. We were talking about something absurd, which we always do. He shows up to the library at 5:30 at night, which he never does. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I do nothing–like I always do.

Our paths crossed again upstairs, but the stacks, where everything is quiet and there are only books, is the worst and most awkward place to start up a conversation, especially if you’re ridiculous and shy like me. But, I had to do something other than go about my job retrieving books, so I texted Lisa. That conversation is below.

Notes:

• Green is me. Silver is Lisa. Duh.
• Lisa does know how to spell devastating. It’s an old inside joke. At least, I assume she’s joking. She might have just spelled it wrong; her spelling it wrong was the origin of the inside joke after all.
• Manpris are what you call capris worn by men. Lisa and I have been talking about them a lot lately, because one of the student workers at the library is always wearing them. We object to manpris. For the record, Adorable Boy was not wearing manpris, but had his pants cuffed, which is also weird but a little less weird than actual made-to-wear manpris.
• I don’t know why Lisa has started offering me money to talk to Adorable Boy. I guess she thinks I’m more motivated by money than my own potential happiness. Or, maybe she’s tired of hearing me talk about Adorable Boy. Both valid.
• Yes, I text in full sentences with punctuation.

I was so willing to try harder than I normally do. I wanted to report back to you, my blog friends, that I did something. I also wanted report back that I wasn’t completely apathetic and pathetic. Please don’t think less of me. If it were within my power, then I’d forget about Adorable Boy and go for someone more realistic and, you know, present. But, as it is, I’m pretty sure “I’m moving on” is just something we tell ourselves. Here’s to the next opportunity when it comes in a week or two or three!

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]]> http://www.writingtoreachyou.com/2008/11/19/pa-thetic/feed/ 0 http://www.writingtoreachyou.com/2008/10/29/awkward/ http://www.writingtoreachyou.com/2008/10/29/awkward/#comments Wed, 29 Oct 2008 13:00:14 +0000 Ashley http://writingtoreach.wordpress.com/?p=728

Last night I was talking to one of the students I work with. I think we were complaining about annoying and demanding library patrons. How dare they ask questions when I’m trying to do my homework! It seems there’s some kind of natural bond between coworkers based on the need to complain.

After extensive complaining, we got onto the subject of awkward encounters in the library. I was telling her about this guy who I’m on friendly terms with. Like, we wave or say hello when we see each other; once in a while we’ll have a real conversation about school. That’s all good and fine, and it would work really well if I saw him occasionally. But, I don’t see him occasionally. I run into him in the library at least once a day (seven days a week), and sometimes it’s more like 5+ times a day. What are we supposed to do? Acknowledge each other every time? Say hello every time? I run into him so often that sometimes it takes me by surprise, and I can’t manage to get any kind of a greeting out. Like yesterday when I’d just taken a sip of my hot chocolate, and I turned around and he was right there. It’s all very awkward.

I think of myself as an awkward person. I mean, I’m shy and I’ve got the whole social anxiety thing going on. So, when I have awkward encounters with people, especially people I know to be outgoing, I always assume it’s me. I walk away thinking I’m the weird one.

But, what I’ve discovered in the last year is that it’s not just me. There’s just a lot of awkward to go around in social encounters.

I learned all this while working in a library. You see, a college library is a place where people who don’t know each other very well are constantly running into each other. Plus, there’s something strange about the environment since there aren’t that many people around, and you’re supposed to be kind of quiet. So, it’s not busy enough that you can just walk by without acknowledging people, but it’s not the ideal location for chatting it up either. In other words, it’s a breeding ground for awkward encounters.

I have the pleasure and the discomfort of watching while people who have never talked outside of class decide whether they’re going to pretend they don’t see each other, nod politely and move on, or try to have some kind of conversation. “So . . . what are you thinking of writing your paper on?” “The one that’s due in two months? I have no idea.” “Yeah, me neither . . . .” Of course, that’s an example of when it goes badly, but I’ve watched this kind of tragedy befall even the most confident and outgoing of people. All parties involved walk away feeling a little uncomfortable. Me, I have to stay where I am, but I also feel uncomfortable.

Student worker and I decided that these encounters are awkward, because there’s so much uncertainly regarding the relationship. You don’t know where you stand with the other person, you don’t know if they think you’re a weirdo, and you don’t know what they want out of the relationship. The roles aren’t clearly defined like they are in a classroom, or even at a party (especially with the benefit of alcohol).

Working at the library, I’ve got it a little easier than the others. I have a clear task: swipe card, check book out, tell patron the due date. But, I often cross over into potentially awkward territory when I want the encounter to go beyond that. I mean, what am I supposed to do when Adorable Boy is standing in front of me?! Should I comment on the book he’s checking out? No, that seems weird and unprofessional. Should I ask him how his semester’s going? No, we covered that last time when he asked me. Should I comment on the weather? No, this is Southern California. The weather is the same every day. Should I ask him how his weekend was? Probably, but that seems kind of weird, since I don’t know him that well. Should I check the book out, tell him the due date, and then smile? No, that’s not enough. But, that’s what I do.

I wish all the words I put so easily to paper would stop falling right out of my head every time he comes around. Oh well. Today I’ll look for comfort in the fact that there’s just something inherently awkward about social situations, and remember that it’s not just me.

My friend Lisa and I like to refer to people by nicknames and acronyms. We use them mostly for people who we only know individually; when we tell stories, it’s easier to refer to these people by nicknames instead of real names. It works pretty well for us. Among multiple others that fall in and out of use, we’ve got Two Outfit Lady, QB, The Crush, RTbf, and, of course, Adorable Boy. For a while, there was an Annoying Boy (a guy in many of classes who never missed an opportunity to prove his smarts), and he and Adorable Boy were both referred to as AB. That was confusing.

Adorable Boy is this grad student who frequented the library I used to work at. He’s really good looking, but what makes him adorable is that he doesn’t seem to try too hard at looking good and he’s extremely nice. We haven’t conversed much beyond, “Do you want me to renew your books?” and “Wow, I can’t believe the semester’s almost over!” Still, he’s so blindingly adorable that I don’t even care that he wears Crocs–bright green Crocs. I’m not personally offended by Crocs like some people, but I don’t usually find them attractive. One day he needed a book, but he couldn’t fine the piece of paper he’d written the call number on. He pulls out a huge stack of papers all mixed up and bent and facing different directions, and tells me he’s so unorganized. Let me tell you, unorganized people usually make me anxious; I want to push them aside and organize all of their things. But, with Adorable Boy, I somehow found the disorder charming. Ugh!

I haven’t seen AB in a while, but yesterday he came into the new library I work at. If you’re thinking that’s some kind of crazy coincidence, it’s not. I live and go to school on one college campus that’s across the street from seven more college campuses. I used to work at the theology library, and now I work at the main library shared by all the colleges. Anyway, I didn’t get a chance to talk to Adorable Boy yesterday, but I look forward to seeing him more often this year. He adds some excitement to those boring hours in the library.