miss american pie.

the anticipation runs through my spin in a million little electric jolts, as if i had just stuck my fork in a toaster and left it there. of course, its not that bad, but exageration is magic in times likes these. im scared for the awkardness and for the undeniable probability that i'll have nothing to say or too much to say, which in both cases can end up gravely mortifying.

i can just picture it. getting into the car, tripping on the way in,while i make a witty comment about the interior or my hair,only to be welcomed by nervous laughter, for which there will be much of. i usually try my hardest to not go into that "awkward silience" mode and then end up in that "can she shut up" mode. i can take an interview,really i can,but a quiet drive to mall, with regret for even asking to hang out on both parts, is something that i would trade a donald trump interview for.

what will i do with my hands?, will he laugh at my stupid notions?, i mean i have nothing to lose, we are just two people that have no feelings for each other and its way harder then if we did. well, for me at least.oh god, i can just imagine the buckets of sweat that i'll generate, jeesus, i could fill one of those kiddie sized pools with it. gross.

"the surest way to boredom, is to say everything." i know it. this is the kinda crap you hear in teen 80's movies.