dumb kid

So...I've fallen down the stairs three times this month. Ok, slipped and skidded, but still, three times is impressive for anyone over the age of five. My feet are stupid.

Let me tell you the story of how I broke my foot. It's pathetic and kinda funny.

Again, stupid feet. Stupid kid too. I was 8 on a church mission trip to Galveston. All the other kids were at least 5 years older than me, so I had no friends for an entire week. I was the tag-along little sister to everyone there. They were nice, but I could definitely feel the vibe of "ok, I didn't agree to babysit." The adults were adults, so they always did boring adult things. For the majority of the week I was awkwardly trying to be involved with anyone else or awkwardly by myself... much like now. Cue the world's smallest violin.

We all went to the beach and no one wanted to stay in the shallow end with me (especially since I did and unfortunately still do scream with seaweed touches me). I ended up wandering the shoreline for a while. The specific stretch of beach where we were had wooden bridges over massive sand dunes. Weird, I know. They were about 100 feet long, 4 feet high and a flat railing on the top:

So naturally I had to climb on top and walk up and down the railing. When I got tired of the balancing beam act and actually got my footing I felt so tall.

Like everything stupid and inevitably disastrous, it started off fine and harmless. After a few jumps it lost its thrill. I backed up a few feet and did a running jump (Don't get ahead of me here). Awesome, but like an addict, I needed more danger. I backed up a few more feet. Repeat the process until I was doing halfway down the railing running jumps. 

Then my go big or go home moment. Even I knew this was going to be amazing or stupid, though not logically thinking of the consequences. I was totally channeling Pocahontas. It was a glorious jump. 

I don't know how I had been landing before this, but this time I was going for a gazelle-like leap. If Pocahontas could do it so could I! I couldn't. I landed on the top of my right foot, kind of landing on each bone individually and rolling onto the next one until my entire foot was on the ground. The rest of me just fell on the sand like a sack of flour.

I didn't feel any pain or panic or need for help. I just knew that something was wrong and I should probably not move for a minute or two. The adults stopped their adult things and came running from the campsite (which was pretty far away). The theory at the time was just that it was sprained ankle or a bone bruise- whatever the hell that means- and that I should keep my shoes on since it hurt way too much to take them off. No one guessed broken anything.

This was day 3. I was piggy-backed by different people for the rest of the trip.

When we got back home, my foot still hurt too much to walk more than a few feet. As it turned out I broke one bone and fractured the two next to it in the middle of my foot. Lime green cast for 6 weeks and I lied about not trying to scratch under the cast.

Aaand that's my broken bone/actual injury story. Everything else has been minor or boring.

synonym for intolerably clingy?

Ok, this has been my past week. I tried to condense it, but...

Friday afternoon this guy awkwardly sat next to me on the campus bus and said he had to talk to me because I'm "super cute."

Saturday morning he texted and set up a date that night. I, like an idiot, had given him my number. I still haven't learned to whip out the "I'm dating/have a boyfriend/am a lesbian" thing. I think I've learned it now. It was the classic movie date. He bought the tickets and the drinks (this is important later) and I thanked him (also important later). It was all slightly awkward. Okay really, if the movie hadn't been as great as it was, the night would've been terrible. There was no food involved.

Sunday morning he asked when we could hang out again and said that he woke up thinking about me.  HE WOKE UP THINKING ABOUT ME. It hadn't been a full 48 hours since we met and he's already pulling this crap. Are you fucking serious?!

Monday- asked if/what time we could hang out again Tuesday. Thanks for smothering me. I was getting an increasingly weird vibe from him. I had to end it.

Tuesday- his text "Good morning. Sorry if I sound all mushy lol, but you're really beautiful."

Ugh. I am not- nor have I ever- been a romantic. Too many compliments and I automatically think this might be phase one of a serial killer. I know my shit; I watch Criminal Minds.

I met him later in the day to break it off in person because I'm nice like that. Ok, because I'm an idiot. We started having a normal conversation and I was trying not to blurt out "you're clingy and weird and I don't want to date you." Out of nowhere he asked if I was a virgin. (Literally. Like 'Do you think it's going to rain?' 'Probably. Are you a virgin?') Why the fuck would you ask someone that?! That is not the time or place to have that conversation. Keep in mind, this is 5 days after we met. I don't know if there's a way I can emphasize that immense level of creepiness. I don't talk about that part of my life. Ever. Even stating that here made me uncomfortable.

Shortly after that awkwardness, I said I didn't want a relationship of any kind- even dating- with anyone right now and I didn't want to lead him on. He said ok, I thought we parted as friendly acquaintances. There was still a part of me that couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

30ish minutes later he texted and asked if there was a possibility of dating in the future; I'm the only girl he's liked in 3 years; I'm so smart and beautiful that he'd wait until I wanted to date ... He continued, asking if it was that I wasn't interested in him or just that I like being single. Then he asked if it was because he was a virgin. I don't know how the hell he thought that was even slightly relevant. Out of desperation, I used the lame "you're not my type" line.

I haven't responded to him since that. It's been a roller coaster of emotions with him from that moment on- I'm not his type either, he just thought I was interesting; he was just being nice when he said I'm beautiful; he's sorry he was mean, he was just upset; you're not physically beautiful at all.

Wednesday- He pulled some crap about it being a "small favor" to pay him back for the movie, especially since I never thanked him. Bitch please. I am not refundable. Go jump in front of a bus.

Thursday- Again, he asked for the money, saying I could meet him in a certain building at a certain time outside of the girl's bathroom. That's the most "I'm going to rape you" thing I've ever heard... aside from "I'm going to rape you." So no, that didn't happen.

Friday-Sunday- No contact. I thought he'd given up. Lured into a false sense of security.

Monday- he texted a very long, groveling apology. The question now is either continue to ignore him or call him a dick and say don't talk to me again... I'm still deciding.

I've had so many friends/family offers to kick his ass. Thanks. I love you all.