How to catch an elephant

Million ways not to ask someone out

Wednesday 2/13/13 - Ellie Von Bun

Prologue

I solemny swear I've been good and busy (ha!) this time I've been away with no words. I have slowly pushed my way out of "No."s and starting to feel alive again. Unfortunately, I'm in the middle of midterms so I'm stressed out and really need to do studying.

Not to worry, I decided to reward all of you with this piece I wrote ages ago, only with no pictures. I may later if I have time and energy fix this with nicely photoshopped monsters.

But not today, I have to run to read some history instead of making it myself! Sigh.

 

The Story

I've had my share of weird guys wanting to get on with this piece of meat. It's world mocking me for being stalkerish myself. You get what you serve!

Not that there has been too many, but there's a few interesting cases that had made me wonder, do some people really think that is a way to impress someone? If the situation is a bit different, if the other one seems also interested, then that kind of behaviour might be okay and you may not come off as a crazy stalker.

When I was a young awkward teenager I met this boy through my friends. Now if you think I have relationship problems today, oh boy I was a mess back then, even in the scale of being awfully young. 17 years old (might also be 16 but I can't remember too well anymore)! It's too young for a relationship for me! In one way I was on a prey for wanting to experience the world, so I did gave this boy a chance to impress me.

At first he seemed fairly normal. When he decided to try to impress me, it went from bad to worse.

He started pulling his sleeves way up and making sure that I was able to see his arms. Why? Of course, he was a cutter and wanted me to see how life was hard on him.

Well, good for him, didn't really earn him any cool-guy-points although I did feel a bit sad for him. Still, the fact that you're pushing your scars on my face makes you kinda pathetic.

Later when the evening went on, he wanted me to accompany him while he smoked. And to tell me stories. Stories about his first love. While crying.

Telling me that you're still not over your ex doesn't make me think that you have a lot of feelings to share and make me jump into your bed, it only makes me want to run away from a mess.

Right after this he gave me his black book. No, not a book that has girls phone numbers, a black book of touchy-feely poems. And song lyrics.

Good for you if you write, it's fine and cool. Don't make me read them in front of you on the first day we meet. And force me to comment on them. There's so much I can nod and smile with the "Mmmm!" -noise.

You'd think at this point he would have dug his grave for deep enough and I'd have my share of that mess.

Sadly, no. I was young and I gave him more and more chances while trying to think did I have anything for him (oh the curse of being naive).

We had awkward parties (or a party, can't remember) where he wanted to talk to me but I ran away most of the night. Because, you know, I LOVE when someone carries (literally) me away from my friends to a room just to talk feelings with a guy I'm not sure if I like. Well, no, I just fought my way free and left.

And after this the worst happened. He left his girlfriend for me.

There's not much I can say about this.

Right now, this memory makes me speechless.

Soon after that I made him clear that I wasn't interested.

Should have done that way sooner, cheez.

I do have a lonely memory when he tried to explain that she wasn't his girlfriend as much as a girl he just hanged with? I don't know. Sounded like a relationship enough for me.

Another cool guy was a bit earlier, maybe a year or two. I saw him once. Literally, once. And I didn't talk to him. He was a friend of a friend and really didn't thought about him much, other than remembering he making out with a friend of mine some time ago.

And that was enough for him to start sending countless of text-messages through at least a year.

Sometimes I'm too nice for my own good. He tried to ask me out many times and I respectfully declined. First I was super nice about it. Then not so nice. Then completely rude. And he just kept going and going.

And I just had to answer.

Finally I couldn't take it and I just snapped at him that I'm not interested and to leave me alone. He's response? Go Shakespare about it. He acted like I would have actually broken his heart or something.

After that I just didn't answer anymore. He still sent me a lot of "I'm sorry, let's start from the start" -messages which I ignored. Really, why? What's wrong with you guys?

Finally he ran into a beautiful friend of mine and started to harass her. I was thrilled and finally free!

This story has it's final peak years after this on a New Year's eve. I was leaving a party early and called a friend to pick me up. I knew he was driving because earlier he said that he had promised to be a designated driver to a friend of his.

And oh boy I couldn't stop laughing when I realized that this friend was the awkward text message -guy. We made some awkward small talk in the car while I was laughing my ass off and my friend dropped me off. And I'm not that awful, I didn't laugh at him, I laughed to the situation.

Later my friend told me that the guy had told him that years back I had slept with him. And then my friend couldn't stop laughing. At him.

Unlucky for the awkward guy that he didn't realize that me and my friend are really good friends and he knows almost everything about me so there wasn't really anything backing up his story.

What a douche.

 

Epilogue

And there you have it. I actually am having an exciting week (if we don't count the midterms) that I'm calling Fear Week. I'm not spoiling the contents of it right now, but tell you about it later WITH PICTURES. Yeah!

Next week is also Reading Week, in other words VACATION or Vancouver Week!

Aww yeah!

Too bad I also have to study there.

And now when I proofread my story I have this tingling feeling that I'm a bad person. Somebody, tell me I'm awesome and it was the guys who were the awkward ones, not me! :]

Bah, whatever, let's throw this here.

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And suddenly I'm awesome again.

Leave a comment. Keywords: canada, stress, boyfriend, stalker, dating

The first day of the end of my life

Tuesday 10/30/12 - Ellie Von Bun

Firsts are always supposed to be exciting and happy events. The first day at school, the first kiss, the first love, the first time you live by yourself. This is one of my firsts and, as always, I have mixed feelings and a lot to worry. Will I fail or will I make everything just right? It's a shame I can't predict the future, but time will tell us how things will turn out to be.

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Sometimes no matter how carefully you plan everything, things won't go the way you wanted. I had my first real kiss (not counting those truth or dare -games from earlier childhood) when I was about 15. It was a beautiful late summer night with a full moon. Me and my almost-boyfriend were at my parents summer cottage and he was leaving and I was going to stay for the night. So there we stood in the moonlight in the middle of the night, grass soft and wet under our feet, trees and small clouds making shadows in the yard.

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My heart was beating so fast and I was panicking. Here we were, on the moment of a very big first! The scene was so overly-top romantic (just way too cliché) that it made me nervous and sick. At least I would have stories to tell to friends and children!

And then we kissed.

And I hated it.

My extremely high expectations were crushed by a pair of (literally) mouthcrushing teeth and saliva, which made me gag.

I desperately thought that the fault was my own, it would get better and I would get used to it (I later learned that even though I may have not been the worlds greatest kisser, the fault that time actually was the boy's). But the memory of my first kiss was forever fixed with a boy that I think actually instead of kissing me tried to eat pieces of my face. It hurt so bad that for a long time I preferred hugging instead of kissing.

For some reason, we didn't end up together and I felt a bit sorry for the girls he dated.

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This website is a different kind of first. It can't be spoiled by unskilled actions by others, except myself. And I'm loving it!

Welcome to Raisin bun's (that'll be me) project, and to it's blog "How to catch an elephant"! Why that name, well, elephants are awesome and I'm obsessed with them.

My plan is to blog about things in my life, and develop this website to interesting and portfolio-y state. This is also my stepping stone to a better life. I have recently diagnosed with depression and have decided to become awesome instead. This will most likely show in many ways. Why I'm telling this? I just want the cat out of the bag so later on I can be more open and perhaps I don't see a reason to censor myself more than is need to be. Depression is a topic that for some reason stays shameful and unspeakable so I want to stop hiding it and be myself, and most importantly to get better.

Hi, my name is Jutta and I have a therapist. He's awesome!

What to do next? I have few ideas that I'll start to do with this website to make it prettier and better, but I will take my time so don't expect anything soon. :) I have MILLIONS of topics to talk about so I'll be coming back with them, one by one.

Until next time!

P.S. Here is the love of my life

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Leave a comment. Keywords: firsts, first, kiss, boyfriend, blog