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Friday, July 17

T's About To Spill: Vaughn Bryant O'Neil (aka The Stupid Things I Do These Days)

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have inferred that I met someone at NYLF. And I did. But my good conscience and my Christian upbringings have got me to where I am now: nowhere. But that's okay.

So I met Vaughn Bryant O'Neil (oh yeah...that's his name, Elisa, if you haven't already figured it out) on the first day of NYLF. I just came back from unpacking all my stuff and waiting for at least one of my roommates to show up. None did. So I thought nothing of it and headed to the elevator. And then there he was (heretofore referred to as Bryant, because his dad goes by Vaughn, and everyone he knows calls him Bryant.) We made some small talk in the elevator. Me, at least. I asked him what we were supposed to be doing. We both looked at our agendas. (I know I had one, but I just really wanted to talk to him...I'm such a loser.) It turns out that we were supposed to go to a ballroom where other NYLFers were, enjoy cookies, and introduce ourselves. Honestly, I couldn't care less where we were going, because having a guy to walk with was a task in itself. Looking back at it now, I chuckle because I was probably telling myself to stop walking so weird (refer to Elisa for further explanation). But anyway...we went to that meeting room place, got some cookies, and sat down. Well, I sat down first, and he took the chair right next to mine, although there were a tamillion available ones out there. So you can guess how optimistic I was feeling at the moment. So yeah. We talked and introduced ourselves to others. Then I got up to get some water, which was located at the other end of the room. Or so I thought. I sat back down, and there was a water table not more than 10 steps away! I told Bryant that there was water right over there, and he looked at me like I was some sort of psycho (you know, when they laugh nervously, bring their eyebrows together, and nod slowly?). I felt really stupid at that moment. Anyway, the adult there said to watch the HIPAA video if you haven't already. He hadn't (:

So we walked to the meeting room where the video was showing, and again, he sat next to me. When the thirty-minute video was over, a young Faculty Advisor came in and told us that basically, there is this thing called patient privacy, where a patient's staus and medications are to be kept confidential. It didn't take him more than a minute to do that. (That had nothing to do with this post, but it was funny and I just had to add it.) So yeah. We had to go back to our rooms, then come back to eat dinner. Or something like that. I cannot remember any further Bryant-exposure that day.

A few days later, I sat down in a lonely corner after I ate lunch. I forgot what I was doing there. Then I saw Bryant. Or he saw me. (Geez, I have really bad memory.) So we talked. And talked. Then I saw my roommate with one of her groupmates. We were all just chatting, and in one long pause, he asked for my number. (Thankfully my mom got me a temporary phone to use in the states.) I told him 314. In my head, I was wondering why he would be needing my room number since boys were not allowed on floors 2-9 (the girl floors) and vice versa. He was like, "That's it?" Then I felt really, really, really stupid, and gave him my cellphone number.

Okay, I was close to telling you more about the conversation that day and some others, but I thought against it. Hint? It deals with the third sentence of this post. But NO, I haven't used up my first kiss, and all that other weird stuff you're probably thinking about right now.

email:statified21@hotmail.com

Meet T'Mar:
Tami’s the name
Blogging’s the new game
Simon Sanchez is the school
Where sharks totally rule
Fourteen is the age,
The volleyball court is my cage
I also like to paddle,
And school, I can handle
Need I say more?
See what my blog has in store.

-top banana of tictacoetactics

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