Seeking the Adorable

Dear Sydney,

Is there something wrong with me? Do I have some sort of mysterious boy repelling disease that I don't know about? I mean, seriously. I've been thinking about this today, and I've decided there must be a giant, pink neon sign above my head that says "DON'T DATE THIS LOSER, BUT FEEL VERY, VERY FREE TO LEAD HER ON FOR THE NEXT SEVEN MONTHS, OR HOWEVER LONG YOU WANT, HANDSOME!" whenever I approach a boy or something.

I'm not ugly. But I know I'm not like America's Next Top Model. Or even the next NEXT top model. (Bad wit, sorry.) It's just that I never do anything wrong to a guy.

I guess it's really always the BOY that does something wrong. It seems I can't exactly fall for the nice guys out there because, well... I don't know actually. Jerks are more my type? As sad as that sounds, it always turns out that way. Bad thing is, they never look like jerks at all. I never fall for the "OMG LIKE HE'S TOTALLY HOTTER THAN THE EFFING SUN" type of boys since we all know they're all only in it for some panties action. (Um, ew.)

So instead, I seek out what I like to call the "Adorable". Basically, they're never like, surfing dude Gorgeous, but they aren't ugly, and they always have the same kind of personality. They have this cute, witty kind of humor that draws me in and snaps the mousetrap on me before it's too late. It's 'ADORABLE'.

However, I always, always end up getting royally screwed over because there is always some beach-blonde abercrombie model looking girl in my way, who happens to like the Adorable, instead of the surfer dude Gorgeous, like they should because, well, they're BEACH-BLONDE ABERCROMBIE MODEL LOOKING GIRLS! You'd think they'd take a second out of their lives and realize this planet does not only revolve for them, but for the low-life dorky girls out there like me as well.

Currently, I'm half-in-love with one of these Adorables named Jon. Half-in-love because I don't love him. Well, as a friend, yes. I only like him as more. Not love. I've only loved one boy outside my family, and I'm really not going to start on that subject, even though you should expect many future entries about him. He annoys me. A lot...

Er.

So this Jon Adorable guy. He actually used to be one of my best friends. Will it work out like it does in all those movies? No. Of course not. Then I'd be happy, which you know, can't obviously happen.

He lives in another state. Almost four hours away, too. He moved away from me and left me here. He has a girlfriend (weirdly enough, she's not beach-blonde, she doesn't wear abercrombie, and she's not a model, although, she is extremely pretty, and a scene kid, nothing of which I can amount my scrawny, dorky self up to).

But, he's Adorable. One of my best friends actually. And therefore, the mousetrap has been snapped shut on my tail, and I'm pretty much screwed/stuck until another Adorable pops up to come ruin my life like they always do.

Alright... that's over. I'm done venting about how I cannot achieve the position of an Adorable's girlfriend.

Something else I cannot achieve?

Height.

Really. I just may be shrinking instead of growing.

I hate being so ridiculously short for my age. At seventeen I should be about 5'3" in my opinion. But I'm unfortunately two inches shorter than that. Today at dance team practice, I was ridiculed by being the shortest girl on the team.

Which reminds me, I HATE LOOKING UP AT THE FRESHMEN. They don't deserve to be looked up to. I'm a senior. I should be looking down at them and making them wet themselves in fear. But, no. Who's gonna pee their pants over a teeny, tiny dwarf-girl? Oh, wait, NO ONE.

Anyways, that's my finished ranting of the day.

I think I need a job. My mind should not be focused on boys this much. But I guess that just comes with the whole, "I haven't had a boyfriend in two years" deal. The single-ness gets really old after all...

So I really could use some chocolate right about now. I'm feeling pretty sick... *cough* and chocolate is really the only way to go at this point. That's it. I'm getting some.

Chocolate, that is. Not... oh, just get your minds out of the gutter. Please?

Much love,
Kaylee