In which I am a major creeper and suffer the consequences, Or "Welcome to college!"

So, I have this class. It's like eight girls and we read Jane Austen. It would be eight girls. In any case, it's my first class of college. Ever. This is a freaking big deal, my friends. 

In any case, the next day, this BOY adds the class. 

And look. I live in an all girls dorm, due to being shafted by university housing. And my first class is an ALL GIRLS class due to boys not especially enjoying British Literature after 1800. And my school has a 60/40 girl to guy ratio. So, I'm like, hey, a boy. IT'S GAME TIME. 

Am I right? 

You would do it, too. Don't front. 

I digress. So, he says his name to the class at large. And of course I do what every red blooded American girl with internet access does. I go home and look him up on Facebook. 

You know, so I can check out what bands he likes and what movies he's seen recently in order to drop a name and pull this scenario:

Next class:

Uzma: Oops, I left my iTunes on! Now, everyone knows I LOOOVE The Smiths. 

Boy: ME TOO!

Uzma: Wow, no way! We have SOOO much in common.

Boy: Let's get married.

Uzma: Deal!

Meanwhile, back in reality, I'm still creeping. Like CREEPING. The kind of creeping you do when you're bored out of your mind and you're listening to music and before you know it, you're on Tagged Picture 298 of 567, Senior Prom, and you're admiring this guy's yellow vest and tie to match his date's yellow dress. Calla lilly corsage, very classy. WAY better than the dumb baby roses. Oh, there's the typical "Oh, Mom, help me pin the boutonnierre picture, I can't do it"  Wait, I digress...again. 

ANYWAY, so I'm just creeping pictures, listening to Ben Folds, creeping away, because NO ONE CAN SEE ME. And, somehow that makes it ok. (Sidenote: What would you do if you knew you'd never get caught? How far would you get it? Ethics, Holla!) Anyway, I'm creeping along and WOW, HE HAS A BLOG. Which, inspired this one, in fact! 

So I'm on his blog, and I'm reading it, it's like SUPER interesting. So I read it, and boy, do I read it hard. Like, wow Christmas 2008 was so interesting hard. Yeah. Don't judge because you know you do it. 

Now it's late, and I'm tired. So I close my laptop and settle in for bed. The next morning is class! 

I walk in and this guy is like "Hey!" and introduces himself. And I reply "Oh, HEY!" and introduce myself. 

In my head I am thinking about how I know everything there is to know about this fellow. 

We exchange some pleasantries and he compliments my laptop and I smugly open it and type in my password. Note that he is looking at my laptop. 

The "Welcome" screen fades away, and up pops....yes. HIS. BLOG. 

The blog of the boy who seemingly just met me. Not only is it his blog, it is scrolled WAY DOWN to a few years ago. Oh. My. God. 

Immediately I close out of the window, however, GUESS WHAT? Right under that is FREAKING  picture 298 of 567, Senior Prom. 

I wanted to die. 

This is how I made it ok: 

 

I put my hands up like I was under arrest and I yell "LOOK, I WAS CREEPING, OK! EVERYONE DOES IT BUT I GOT CAUGHT." 

Luckily, he was a good dude. A chill bro, and did not make it worse and was gracious and now everything is ok and we're bffls. 

But still, FML worthy? 

Totes Mcgotes. 

The end.