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June 06, 2002 // 7:23 p.m. // Another brief Polo encounter
As further proof of my love of creative writing, I made my way up to the alma matter today on the last day of school in hopes of snagging the 2002 edition of the school literary magazine, Pencilings. I graduated two years ago, but I keep going back. Go figure. I walked into the mess known as yearbook day in my make me look pretty outfit. I headed straight to the creative writing room, knocked a few times, tried the doorknob, and got nothing. I headed back downstairs, and was just about to leave when I heard them call her to her classroom. Bingo. I turned right back around after walking the length of the school and headed back upstairs. We chatted briefly, she handed me a copy of the mag, and I headed back out the door with that and a souvenir cover in my hand. And then I saw Polo. Or rather Polo saw me. I wasn't paying any attention to what was around me. "Hi!" We were walking in different directions. She in the direction of the creative writing room, me to the other end of the school. I can't believe I didn't notice her in her tye dye shirt, and that she said hi to me first. "Hey, how's it going?" "Good." "You're graduating this year?" "Yeah." "Sounds fun." I wasn't bright enough to stop while I was talking to her. So throughout the brief conversation, I was walking further south while she was planted firmly in the hall. I think she thought I was in a hurry or something, when really, all I wanted was to talk to her longer. "Well, it was nice talking to you." "Yeah. Same to you." "Nice hair!" "Thanks. Bye." But it made my day. Not that I was having a particularly bad one. She always does. During Take 5, while I was dealing with ending my diary, we spoke briefly, and she did the same thing then. She just brightens my day. And I don't think it's because she's just a crush. We have more in common that most of my crushes. Most of my crushes aren't big into theater or writing or anything creative. Plus I think she's cute. But don't tell her I said that. Excuse me while I run off and giggle. There's something about reliving this that makes me feel all giddy or something. Can boys feel giddy? Jason