Friday, June 14, 2013

Here Is What Everyone Should Know About Frozen Yogurt.

If you mix in peanut butter, you'll get quite a nice concoction of the two most delicious flavors in the universe.

I love peanut butter. I love it so much.

The first guy I ever kissed didn't like it at all. He was from London and they don't really do peanut butter there, so he kind of thought it was gross--obviously, he was dead wrong, but it is what it is. The first time I kissed him I had just eaten a peanut butter sandwich and when I pulled away I apologized for tasting like it. His line: "I think I could grow to like peanut butter." Dying.

Actually, my whole first kiss situation was kind of awful and adorable and so characteristically me. It was with this guy I had liked for a while, and we had been close friends. Apparently, he liked me too, though I was angstily* oblivious to that fact.

We worked together at a sleep-away camp that I had gone to for years. I loved that camp--I met my current boyfriend there as well, as a matter of fact.

(Oh god. Am I a camp whore?)

First Kiss Guy and I were out with a few friends one night and didn't return to camp until like 1:30 am. The dining hall had been closed for hours, but we broke in anyway and made ourselves a feast of PBJs and popsicles. Our friends left after a little while, and FKG and I walked back to our cabins alone. We stopped in front of the barn, under the streetlight that illuminates where the path splits to Boys' and Girls' Villages. We stood and talked for a few minutes, our hands brushing together.

Out of nowhere, his face was really close to mine. Really close. I could feel his breath on my nose--and I panicked, naturally. Because this is me and I have no social skills. I took a big step back, said loudly, "I think I'm going to go to bed," turned on my heel and began to walk away as quickly as I could.

When I glanced back, he was still standing there, a tall thin shadow under the orange light. I stuck out my tongue and made the loudest farting noise I could muster, and then hurried on my way.

Really, this is so classic me that I could just spit.

Anyway, it wasn't until five minutes later that I realized what I'd done and knocked on a friend's cabin door in a panic. She just looked at me like I was an idiot--maybe I was. Maybe I am. "Go knock on his door, stupid" was the basic gist of her advice.

So I did. And he came down the hallway and opened the door, and I tried to apologize for being so silly but before I could even get the words out he kissed me. Cue the Peanut Butter Anecdote. He said a lot of other cute stuff, too, but honestly I don't really care about it that much anymore.

After we were done, I told him that I really did have to go to bed, so after a quick goodnight I hopped off the porch. Assuming he was inside already, I did a little dance to myself. A voice behind me laughed and asked, "What was that?"

"My happy dance," I mumbled, flushing red, and then really did sprint off to my safe cabin in Girls' Village.

Mic drop. Sharma out.

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*Is that even a word? It is today!

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