need a little luck? I got a lot of it.

People continually amaze me, and not in a good way. I was waiting to get into the library this morning, and this guy dropped a WHOLE lot of pennies on the floor. And he didn't pick them up. Naturally, I was shocked. He did take about a handfull and threw them down to the first floor, but other than that, no one picked them up. 'Til I did. Because, you know, pennies make money! You don't throw money on the ground for someone else! Oh my Lord!

What's WRONG with people? Or is there something wrong with me, the Girl Who Picks Up Pennies?

there will be no white flag above my door.

I cannot believe that I had the conversation I did with my dad. I actually told him about the whole Shawn thing, and I even slightly mentioned The Boy--without naming names exactly. I gave my usual reasons for not feeling the same way--he's more than 50% dorky, and I'm just not attracted to him. I can't believe I told my dad this. What is even more unbelievable is that he offered to provide transportation for me and The Boy if I ever got the nerve to ask him out. (and he accepted... haahahaha!) Thanks, Dad, but... no. Just no. I have too much pride.

Lord, just when I'm sure a guy has an interest in me, I don't want him to. The curses of being plain constantly rear their ugly head.

Speaking of Drew--I've decided to say his name, because I enjoy torturing myself and besides, typing "The Boy" can become incredibly cumbersome and I mention people by name enough in here anyway and I've yet to be truly found out, thank the Lord--today in French my heart did this flip-floppy thing. There's this girl in French with us. Brandi was in the same French I class as me. She's a varsity cheerleader turned female wrestler. She's a junior. She's strawberry blonde and about 5'4" and cute. Since we've changed seats, she sits in front of him, and I sit in the back of the same row as them. And I see them talking all the time. And I know it's probably nothing more than talking, but I had that familiar sinking feeling. The feeling that it's too late for me. The feeling that if I try anything now, I will be immediately disqualified because I'm just a photographer who doesn't wear American Eagle and Abercrombie, because I'm not cute and petite with perfect teeth and blonde hair. I'm taller than average, have mangled front teeth, live in jeans and t-shirts, and could never be petite even if I tried.

( I'd like a side order of teen angst, please. )

In other non-agitating news, I am glad to be on Thanksgiving break. I get to make macaroni and cheese. I hope I don't screw it up. I'm always worried I'll screw up the macaroni for some reason. I'm weird like that.

And I have $50. It's a miracle.

Speaking of money--guess how much those pennies I picked up this morning amounted to? 45 cents. Basically 50 cents. Basically half a dollar. And that crazy boy just dropped them like they were trash! It gets worse--some guy just threw a dime on the floor in front of me and kicked it like it was a rock or something. And he just looked at me like I was crazy when I picked it up. Dude! What's WITH people?