My name is Morgan, and I'm a creep.

I definitely feel like anyone reading these needs a little background info first. I feel like situations I'll talk about would be more appreciated after a little prefacing. Skylar and I went to the same high school, and a small one at that. When I say small, I don't mean a few thousand people total small. I mean the kind of small only Asians can really understand. Personally, I don't think my creepiness or awkwardness really began until after high school. I feel Skylar would agree. This might because being in a small, rural town doesn't really provide opportunities for normal interactions with people, let alone ones that make you feel like an awkward creep. Anyyyway, once I was in college I knew that I did not have the social skills of my peers. The first year was okay, mostly because I was engulfed in a year long relationship that will be mentioned often, probably bitterly. But this year, my second year, has really really proved to me that there's not a lot of hope for normal social interactions with me. Someone is always left feeling reallllll uncomfortable. And a few people love me because, or maybe in spite, of this. You don't believe me? I can cite a few incidents.

--A few days ago I had a dream about one of my residents (I'm a RA). The dream essentially was about how attractive he is and our forbidden love. It would never work in real life because he's an athlete, but a girl can dream- literally. He called the on call phone really late one night and I couldn't handle the situation properly without being so uncomfortable- all I could think about was my dream. I know he isn't aware that I had a dream about me supporting him financially in return for his love and attention, but that was seriously all I could think about. So I'm left feeling so uncomfortable around him because I'm a creep. I laugh nervously when his girlfriend makes comments about me being such a good neighbor, when in any situation that involved me NOT being his RA, I would have already date raped him.

--The first day of my first class this semester; deformable bodies, ahh engineering. I didn't really know anyone in my class, a few acquaintances. Of course, my Asian professor wanted to know fun facts about us all. Since I attend a relatively small private university, and am majoring in Mechanical Engineering, my classes are typically pretty small. There were about twenty people in my class and we all turned in a paper with our names and one 'fun' fact about ourselves. Let me just say that I hate being forced to come up with 'fun' facts. What if you are an exceptionally bland person that hasn't been playing the cello for ten years?? What if you haven't lived in seven countries?? It took me forever to figure out my fun fact. But now that I've got it, I cling to it like my seven Asian professors probably cling to their white rice. Anyyyway, the professor starts looking through the pages. When he gets to mine, he puts all of them down and holds mine up. First of all, I have awful man hand writing. Way to throw me under the bus. So he gets confused when he reads mine and decides to ask the class while passing around my oh so fun fact who Morgan is and what gnomes are. Yes, I collect gnomes. Someone asked if those were the the things with colored hair. No. No. No. How do these people not know the difference between a garden gnome and a troll??

Anyway, every one was silent and all I could muster up to say was "Well, this is uncomfortable." And before the professor went back to the plan for the day, he made sure to say point out that was a really creepy thing to collect. Thank you. So much. Afterwards someone may have approached me to ask about them. And by may have I mean definitely did. And to exhibit the fact that I have not an ounce of social skills once more, I started rambling about how my residents think I'm sooooo weird. Which they do. But that's another post for another day. The point you should be getting from that last tidbit is that if a person of the opposite sex that is even mildly attractive (according to my standards, which are strange from what essentially everyone on the planet tells me... which is a-whole-nother post for a-whole-nother day...) I WILL absolutely embarrass myself.

--Which, by coincidence, is a perfect lead in to another tale of my awkward slash creepy behavior. I hate holidays, nay occasions that are supposed to be celebrated by drinking excessively and hooking up with someone. This might be because I don't (typically) do either of those things (at least I'm honest...), but nevertheless... My best friend was living with her boyfriend at the time in an apartment building close enough to my place (and work) for me to be there often. I spent New Year's Eve there at a little get together. I'm not downplaying the situation, it really was a small get together. Probably because her boyfriend was a raging alcoholic and an absolute dick. I had gotten out of, or better put- been let out of, what I would consider a serious relationship a few months prior. Let's refer to him as C hereafter- because I do bitterly reference things more than I should. Anyyyyway, things between us were still in limbo. And by still in limbo, I mean that he still lived with me essentially and I was still acting the definition of pathetic. Obviously, I was okay with finding a rebound because C had already been through the girl he found while we were together AND a club whore at that point. Luckily for me, my best friend had a neighbor that was also a single AND functioning alcoholic. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES, RIGHT?!?! And I won't even lie, I welcomed some attention. Maybe a little too eagerly, but nevertheless... Long story short, or not, he invited me over to his place to "get away from the party". All I need to hear was "I have a puppy AND I want to make out with you," and I was obviously there. But no, the universe does not work that way. Not for me. I was always destined for incredible awkwardness. So after some very nice sweet talk and a walk to his apartment, I proceeded to puke. I had consumed absolutely NO alcohol, I promise you. I just get stressed way too easily. When I get nervous or laugh too hard, I really will hurl. Its happened more than a few times. Somewhere between the "I want to make out with you" and the eight missed calls I ignored from C telling me to "Let him sleep at my place, again. Because THAT is what good friends do", my body said "Effff you Morgan. You will have no rebound. Because you will puke outside the Brittney's neighbor's door." I. AM. NOT. KIDDING. That's when I started to cry/laugh hysterically. And run to my car. Literally. I turned around and ran to my car. That's my life.

When things like that happen, I immediately call/text/send pictures to Skylar. She gets it, she really does. And that's why we made this blog- to document these situations.

Yours awkwardly, and creepily,
Morgan