All That She Wants Is Another Baby

If you got to make a new traffic sign, what would it be?

If you were tasked with naming the new competitor to Bluetooth, what name would you pick?

What Tom Cruise movie are you?

SQ WEBLOG 003

Basically, I found a blog in the woods under a log covered in iridescent mushrooms. I ate the whole log and suddenly a dot matrix printout emerged from my mouth containing a story from my memory sack (look it up). This is the third one:

I stood there in the park, my golden nokia phone hot in my sweaty hand. My breath trembled as I dialed Gina's number, backed out to the home screen, typed in the number, waited for a sign from god or really whomever, and hit send.

She was tall and funny, and I was short and funny. We had so much in common. I mean 50% is pretty good if you think about it. I had drunk rum with her at a couple house parties and we had inside jokes. She called me Cabana Boy, and I'm not sure why. But I liked it.

I'd never really just asked somebody out. I would usually just hang out and be charming until it happened or absolutely didn't. But it was time to try something new. It was time to become Cababna Man.

The phone started to ring. It rang and rang. I realized I hadn't prepared a message! As I scrambled to pull something together, the ringing stopped. "...Hello?"

It was her. "Hey it's Nate." I don't know what else I said, I think I was VERY direct and CHARMINGLY and UNAVOIDABLY awkward. But I know I asked her out, and she said yes.

I spent the afternoon playing frisbee at the park, feeling confident about my new way of being in the world, confident, direct, unafraid. I was finally-

The phone rang. "Hello?" It was Gina.

"Hey Nate," she started. "I am REALLY sorry about this, but I was taking a nap when you called before. I was super confused and thought you were a different Nate I know."

Damn, Gina.

END TRANSMISSION