So Much Awkward

This is a very random entry. It’s kind of like my diary circa 1997 only without all the references to how Brett S. drew a smiley face on my notebook and so OMG HE MUST TOTALLY LIKE ME. Except that I looked like this in seventh grade so he totally didn’t.*
Our house is at the top of a pretty steep hill. As in, when it freezes over here everyone else in the neighborhood can drive away when the sun comes out but we’re trapped in our cul-de-sac because the hill is iced over and has turned into a total deathtrap. So it’s pretty common to see the people walking/jogging/running up our hill. It’s a really good workout and I know this because I’m typically the girl struggling to push a stroller up it, complete with toddler and the chihuahua who insists on hitching a ride.

I’m laying on the front porch reading a copy of Sweet Valley High Senior Year (#2:  Say It To My Face) that I checked out from our local library because I’ve discovered that while they don’t have any current reading material in stock, they do have the entire series of every book that was popular in the mid 90′s. Obviously I had to check that out along with my copy of “Feeding The Picky Eater.”

So anyhow, I’m rolling my eyes at Jessica Wakefield when I hear someone coming up the hill. I look up to see a middle-aged man (who is not wholly unattractive) in workout gear. He has earbuds in and I can hear him saying something so I assume he is singing along to whatever music he is listening to. I also assume that he is listening to some really motivational, hard-core work out music because he is fist pumping.

I can’t take anyone seriously who fist pumps, y’all.

It’s when he rounds the cul-de-sac in front of my house that I’m able to make out what he is saying and I toss Jessica Wakefield and her petty problems aside to be sure that I did not mishear him.

But I did not mishear him because he continued his chanting as he looped around, all of the while pumping his fist and saying “THIS GUY! THIS GUY IS A BABE MAGNET!”

I have to say, all slightly frat-boy creepiness aside, I admire the dude’s confidence. And his ability to make it all the way up that *bleeping* hill without having to stop and catch his breath three houses down.  It almost makes me want to offer him a drink and let him in on the secret that we can all hear him and that also he’d be more of a babe magnet if he didn’t actually say that out loud. But only almost.

*Note: I don’t know how I ended up so awkward looking when obviously I have attractive parents.
**So my dad and I are on the phone when he pulls up my blog, sees the photo, busts out LAUGHING and says “OH MY GOSH LOOK AT YOU!” This is sad, y’all.