This meme pretty much explains my life at the moment…

Today at orchestra, I talked to this really cute guy. He forgot his music last week, and I saw it as a perfect opportunity to talk to him. Just keep in mind, I will exaggerate quite a bit in this post.
Me: “Hey, did you lose your music? Someone forgot theirs last week”
Him: “Well would you look at that! It is mine!”
My brain: “WOW, CAN YOU BE ANY MORE ADORABLE? AND OF COURSE IT’S YOURS, YOU AND I ARE THE ONLY PEOPLE IN THE CELLO SECTION THAT TAPE OUR MUSIC. AND I RECOGNIZE YOUR HANDWRITING FROM YOUR FACEBOOK COVER PICTURE. NOT LIKE I STALKED YOU OR ANYTHING…” *manic laugh*
Me: “Cool” *walks away, drool dripping down my face*
—later—
My friend: “I wonder what his hair feels like?” (he uses gel)
Me: “Let’s touch it” (Finding Nemo moment right here – and I dislike that movie with a very strong passion btw)
My friend: “During break!”
Me: “Sounds good”
My brain: “I WANT TO TOUCH IT NOW!!! IT LOOKS SO SOFT AND ASDFJKL CAN I JUST TOUCH IT RIGHT NOW PLEASE PLEASE”
—later—
My brain: “IT IS BREAK TIME. CAN I PLEASE GO TOUCH HIS HAIR NOW?!”
My friend: *talks about things not pertaining to his beautiful hair*
—later—
Me: *packing up cello and music*
Him: *packing up cello and music right next to me* (my case was right by his – coincidence or not, you decide ;))
Me: “What does your hair feel like?”
Him: “UNICORN HAIR”
My brain: “MARRY ME RIGHT NOW”
My friend: “What do you use in your hair?”
Him: “I never wash my hair, so just grease and dandruff”
My brain: “HE HAS A SENSE OF HUMOR, ALL SYSTEMS ABORT AND MARRY HIM”
Me: “hehehe”
—later—
Me: *putting away chairs and cleaning up band room*
Me: “Can I feel your hair?”
Him: *slowly walks away, with scared look in his eyes*
My brain: “HEHEHE YOU HAVE HIM CORNERED!!! TOUCH HIS HAIR NOW!!!”
Me: *touches his hair*
Me: “ooh soft!”
—later—
My friend: “So what’s your name?”
Him: “[insert awesome name here]”
My brain: “WELL OF COURSE I KNEW THAT… THE CONDUCTER ASKED YOU TWICE IN THE LAST FEW WEEKS. AND YOU KNOW, IT SAYS ON THE SEATING CHART. AND ON YOUR FACEBOOK”
Me: “How tall are you?”
Him: “Six foot”
My brain: “HOLY MUSTACHES. I’M FIVE FOOT TALL… THAT’S TWELVE INCHES TALLER THAN ME!!!”
—later—
Him: *walks down hall with mom and sister*
Me: “They look nothing alike!”
My friend: “They’re definitely not siblings”
My brain: “WELL YOU KNOW… HIS SISTER OR WHOEVER WAS IN YOUR ORCHESTRA LAST YEAR, AND SINCE YOU STILL HAVE THE PROGRAM FROM A CONCERT, LOOK HIS LAST NAME UP AND SEE IF SHE HAS THE LAST NAME AS HIM!”
Yep, guys should really not be able to wear perfect-pants (not too tight, not too loose – European guys have this style down)… and button down shirts, and perfect-shirts (not too tight, not too loose)
Until next time, Em 🙂