  We have a student teacher in my science class. I really have had no opinion of her until today. She’s youngish, tallish, quietish… nothing particularly interesting. In an attempt to get to know us, we played one of those arbitrary get-to-know-you games. In the end, we each had to stand up and recite a list of things about ourselves. Standing up.
As in, on your feet, in front of people you don’t particularly like . People you may not actually know , even. After mumbling out my list and turning florescent red, I felt deflated. My day has been ruined by a full thirty seconds. But instead of reflecting on what had made me feel so awkward in the first place, I am choosing to channel that energy into my new hatred for my student teacher. ----------------------------------------------- I saw Mike in the hallway by the drama room (and hence, next to my locker) after school today.
It prompted a weird feeling in my stomach. He is. so. wonderful . In Global Issues last year, I experienced the height of my OCD. I would sit in the corner, furiously re-copying my notes and filling out the days events in my date book.
It was pretty disgusting. Mike was in my class. He was tall and gorgeous, with messy hair and a strange confidence… way too cool to be a freshman. I think I was initially drawn to him purely for his warmth, his kindness. In that class, we talked philosophically about world issues and morality. So it was only a matter or time before I discovered that Mike was one of the most deep, thoughtful speakers I had ever met.
He had a way with words, that boy. I was enthralled whenever he spoke. One day a heated debate erupted about McDonalds fries vs. Burger King fries. I remember thinking, “He’s making me swoon over fast food . This boy is a god.” I would torture myself with thoughts about Mike ("He’ll never notice me! Oh, the horror!
") Thereafter, I would dissolve into tears. Surely I wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough, nice enough for him! Surely I had never crossed his mind! It was a miracle he even knew my name! At one point, I realized that I was way too different from him, and learned to accept my fate as another of those graced with his spirit. It’s the nastiest stage of my crushes, when I just hope that they’re happy.
It’s sickening, actually. Anyway, I just wanted to leave a little piece of him in here. One day he will be a famed activist or musician or stage actor, and I will have this to remind me of how close I was to him today. Affectionately… Anna 
