Moments of Seduction

Sometimes, like every other human in the world, I yawn. Often times, people look over at the peak of the yawn which is never attractive, ever. Today such a moment happened. I was in the midst of a particularly satisfying yawn and not paying any attention to my surroundings I let loose and went with it. This yawn was one of the records; as in mouth wide open, eyes tearing up and an unfortunately a little bit of wonk-eye.

Naturally someone, who was an incredibly good looking male, was staring at me with an intense interest. He apparently interprets this moment of tiredness as a pick up. Yes dude-to-the-left, when I am scoping out hotties and decide to impress one I always open my mouth as wide as possible, bare my teeth, get a little teary and show off my best wonk-eye. I think the main problem is he decided the wonk-eye was some horrifying version of a wink. So with a flash of panic in his eyes he quickly informs me that my alleged seduction tactics are not of interest to him by saying. “Um yeah. No thanks.” Then he moves two rows of seats away.
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I’m sorry what? No thanks? REALLY?! Note to you Mr. Ego I am not putting on the sexy for you and if you think that is a wink, get your eyes checked. Ugh. I didn’t even bother to reply to his assumption that I wanted the goods with my wide-open, yawn mouth. Instead I sat in my seat wondering how on Earth anyone could possibly misinterpret a yawn for a seduction move. I still find it impossible. Maybe it’s the new mating call?

Young Children & Me = Not A Good Mix

The other day, I had a complete and utter crap day. As I was finally making my way home and turned onto Pearl Street, I look into a yard and see two little kids playing. Ahhh yes. The good old days when imagination was really all you needed. In the midst of my smiling nostalgia, the young boy apparently takes notice of me. I notice him sizing me up and think quickly, “RUN AWAY!”

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As a general rule whenever a kid/child/small urchin is looking at me with deviance in their eyes I attempt to abort the situation. Just as I start to make the move to cross the street I see something zooming at me out of the periphery of my vision. This demon child has in fact launched a surprisingly large dirt clod at me. In the midst of this launch he has also chosen some spectacular words to yell in attack. They are: “GO BACK TO YOUR HOLE!” This total douche of a kid just threw half his yard at my face and told me to go back to my hole? Seriously?! Being the ever-mature person I am, I stuck my tongue out at him and yelled, “Bite me!” I then ran away in a very dignified manner. I am seriously reconsidering that whole having kids thing. A dog is just fine by me.

Where’s Your Mom?

Whenever I find that I need to hustle down Pearl to work I throw my headphones on to motivate fast walking as opposed to my usual “just dickin’ around” walk. So today, while busting a move through the mall, my iPod switched songs at the perfect time allowing me to hear a small child’s statement regarding myself.

This kid can’t be older then 10, 12 tops. Yet, he thinks he is hot shit with his crew of fellow street urchins who are all congregating around the lower level vending machines. This stud whips out the statement, “Mmmm … thick and juicy!”

What. The. Hell. You are ten, I am not a steak, and no one actually says these types of things in real life.
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Right as the next song kicks in on my iPod, I turn and stare at him with the world’s single most incredulous look on my face and suddenly all of those supreme-stud thugs drop the act, look at me with panic and scatter.

Go to Burger King where you’re comments will be acceptable. Thanks.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

I am waiting for the day when this happens to me. I feel as though it will happen soon…

“Today, I went to a bar with two guys I was interested in. The first I’d been trying to go out with all semester. The second i had gone to dinner with and he seemed nice. I was the designated driver, they drank too much and on the way home hooked up in the back seat. FML.”

Also, last night I said to a friend, “Jersey produces subpar people.” I was fed up with a certain person who hails from Jersey. His response, “My dad is from Jersey. So is half of my family.” Well done, Amber. Good friendship skills.

Straws: The Latest Accessory For The Nose.

I’ve been on campus a measly two hours and so far this is what has happened.

In class a kid caught me staring at his lips. Listen, don’t judge they were rather nice and I was bored nearly to death. I needed some entertainment. When he caught me violating his lips with my eyes, he gave me one exceptionally nasty look. Get over yourself, you should be flattered I felt like wasting my class time looking at your sub-par lips.

jesse-mccartneyjpg3Secondly, while sipping my iced coffee and texting on my walk to the library (multi-tasking is my greatest downfall) I literally bump into the Jesse Mac look-alike on campus. Oh hot damn. In our small collision I managed to stuff my straw right up my nose, seductive. Quickly removing this nasal device I attempted to move around him and in my escape he looks at me with judgmental eyebrows and goes, “Nice phone…” then walk away. Ugh, this 1980s phone will be the death of me. My oh so suave response was, “Um…what-ever!” Yes, that is a clearly impressive comeback worth of both of our time. For this I get further judgmental eyebrows. Pshh, dude just lost himself 5 hottness points in my book.

So far today has made me want to hide under one of these computer cubbies, but life could be far worse. I just saw a man wearing stilts trip and practically make out with a lamp post to steady himself. Cheers to public humiliation in all forms.

SIDE NOTE: A guy just laughed at me, out loud in the library, for looking at Jesse McCartney pictures online for this post. FML.

Classic(al) Encounters In The Library.

While I shall miss UVM after I graduate, I am quite certain I will not miss the numerous awkward encounters I have had in it’s outdated library. The other day I sit down in peace, in an area where no one is particularly near me. Within two seconds this dude gets up from the table next to me (he thinks I do not see this) and comes and sits down right across from me. Inner monologue, “God no. Get out of here.” I can already tell this is going to be painful. Right as I am about to put in my headphones he practically yells at me, “THE CUBICLES ARE SO CRAMPED! I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND IF I SIT HERE!” In this terribly polite method of chatting, he manages to spit all over my computer. Great. Simply fabulous. Oh and by the way bud, I saw you get up from the table right next to me, so that you could creep on me. You did not, in fact, come from a cubicle.

I decide to be mature about the situation and not gather my belongings and move to a safe zone. Instead I simply say, in a very quiet “indoor” voice, “You can sit where ever you want.” Then I slam my headphones into my head as quickly as possible and turn up my music so that I will not have to hear him yelling at me to get my attention. This attempt was a fail.

About five minutes into enjoying my blissful Jesse McCartney music, heaven is interrupted when something smacks me in the face and falls onto my keyboard. I look down and an alcohol wipe is staring me back in the face. What the hell. I look up and Creeper McCubicleMover is looking at me with a huge grin on his face. Yes good sir, to seduce the young ladies today it is best to smack them in the face with antiseptic wipes. This gives you a sure in.

I pull my headphones out completely unsure as to how to deal with this situation and simply ask, “Did you drop this?” He informs me that is to clean my headphones. Oh duh Amber, how could you not realize such an obvious fact; your ears are terribly disgusting and dirty therefore you must disinfect them and your skullcandy-earbuds-bluejpgheadphones before listening to your quality music. How could I have been so senseless. To appease the crazy sitting across from me I clean my headphones, say thanks and then burying  myself in my book to illustrate that I am terribly busy reading terribly important things and should not be bothered.

Ten minutes pass and I’m finally breathing freely thinking I will no longer be bothered. Think again. Suddenly there is a hand waving in my face, literally like three inches (max) from my nose. Once again, do people not grasp the concept of personal space, it is not that hard. Really, it isn’t. I pop out one headphone and put on my best disinterested face. He asks me what I’m listening too.

Now, while I may love me some Jesse McCartney music. I tend to keep this on the DL since I fully accept that is deemed “BAD MUSIC” by nearly everyone I know. On that note, I certainly do not openly admit this, especially to strangers who give me alcohol wipes for my earbuds. I lie and say I’m listening to Wu-Tang. He seems like the type who is horrified by rap music in general let alone serious rap. I guessed right. Instead of getting the point that we are in fact two very different people who should have nothing to do with each other he asks me if I listen to classical. Ugh, really? After informing him that no, I do not listen to classical, he takes my headphones out of the jack and puts it in his computer.

Whoa bud, not cool. I now have to wildly scramble to pull up my iTunes and hit the space bar so that the whole library does not find out that I am listening to Jesse McCartney. After this awkward, mad dash to silence my music. The mega-douche sitting across from me presses play on his music so I can be graced with the beauty of his far superior music. What hits my ears is indescribable. While I do not play World of Warcraft I strongly feel as though this music has to be the theme song. This is no Mozart, it is full-fledged sci-fi dweeb soundtrack. I am at a loss for words and after about a full minute I can no longer handle myself so I pop out my headphone jack and say, “It’s interesting.” Right as he is going to respond Lauren comes to my rescue and I throw myself into conversation in a vain attempt to shut the sci-fi lover out. He finally gets the point and I can sit next to Lauren, my savior, and listen to my Jesse Mac in peace.

Censor Yourself.

The perks of living in a area with sidewalks and a population over 1,000 are numerous. However, the cons are still rather considerable. Coming from a town where my nearest neighbor is a good couple forests away, the notion of privacy has never really been an issue for me. Then I got an apartment in downtown Burlington, where my neighbor is literally an arm’s reach away from me. On numerous summer nights the previous tenants serenaded me to sleep with their symphony of sex sounds and a few domestic disturbance calls; blue lights and sirens is an excellent alarm clock…at 4AM. Tragically these lovely individuals moved away and since then the only issue with privacy I had was when my towel fell off in front of my window and the logger removing trees in my backyard gave me a thumbs up…cool.

Then tonight happened. Today was by far the warmest day of spring yet so in celebration I left my window open and curtains as well. After a classic cinematic experience of Dirty Dancing, I retired to my room to do that thing called homework that is required to pass college. Throw the book on the bed, plug in lap top, turn around, wait, where is the book? Ah yes, it fell in the one inch crack between my bed and wall. So as I bend down to retrieve this terribly fascinating piece of literature I notice I can see right into my neighbor’s living room and what the show I get.

Apparently someone had the apartment to himself for the night and decided now was the prime time for some one on one sexual bonding with himself. Yes, I did in fact see right into my neighbor’s window as he was in fact jacking off. Awesome.

My curtains are now shut and will remain that way forever. Finally, to whom it may concern, (meaning you who is getting down with yourself across the way) when having an intimate moment with yourself, please, for the love of Ray J, shut your blinds.

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