The Awkward Moment When You Try To Make Friends

Photo Creds to http://cheezburger.com/View/2940123648

         

          Every Saturday I go to the Music Institute of Chicago to wait for my little sister to finish with her violin lessons. And every Saturday it seems like the same kid sits next to me in the waiting room, opens a green binder labeled “Pre-Calculus,” stares at a page of notes for exactly two minutes, active reads half of a book (yes, it’s different each time), and then takes out his music and hums quietly to himself. Yes, all of this occurs in approximately 45 minutes while he waits for his teacher to call for him.

            If you were curious, this week’s literary work was Hamlet.

            Considering that I see this kid every Saturday, I decided to make a friend and break the awkward ice that always occurs since we always end up sitting next to each other every single Saturday.

            “Hi, I’m Sarah. I noticed you come here—”

            “Yeah, I have a lesson.”

            “…Oh.”

            “Yeah.”

            Enter a good 10 minutes of silence. Why am I so awkward? I’d like to know that, too.

            So I took out my assignment notebook and was busy crossing out my English homework pretending to be productive when the kid looks at the cover of my notebook and asks, “You’re from Glenbrook North?”

            Extremely happy that he decided to break the silence, I took the opportunity to respond with, “Yeah, I am. Which school are you from?”

            “New Trier. But I’m actually a transfer student from Spain.”

            “Oh, wow, you don’t have an accent!”

            Why do I always say the wrong things at the wrong time?

            Trying to not sound completely stupid, I added, “I mean, like, you know, for, uh…”

            That definitely helped.

            Luckily, his teacher decided to come just at the right moment and call for him.

            He reached for a handshake with his left hand.

            I reached for a handshake with my right.

            Seeing that the handshake wouldn’t work out, he simply said, “Well, it was nice talking to you, Sarah. Also, your pencil case is spilling right now.”

            “Oh, well, yeah, thanks…”

            I cleaned up my pencil case and swore I’d never try to make small talk with people who open green binders labeled “Pre-Calculus,” stare at notes for two minutes, active read crazy hard books, and hum their violin music to themselves again.

            But I mean, chances are, I’ll end up talking to the kid again.

            Because who doesn’t want a friend from Spain? 

The Awkward Moment When Small Children Get More Valentines Than You Do

Photo Credits to http://thatawkwarddisneymoment.tumblr.com/

          “Sarah, I’m home.”

          “Oh, hi Kate, what’s the box for?”

          “It’s my Valentine’s Day box. Everyone in my class got valentines and then we put them in these boxes. Where’s your Valentine’s Day box?”

          “Uh… it’s… in my room.”

          Reality bites. My third grade sister receiving love letters from boys before me? That’s just cruel.

          Naturally, I didn’t really think about Valentine’s Day that morning, so it’s not like I got dressed in a red dress or anything. But I really miss the whole give-everyone-a-gift day in February.

          Sometimes I feel like high school takes away fun activities and turns them into exclusive privileges.

          Take sports teams or “clubs” for example. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of having a few kids in a group who get really close and do stuff together, but sometimes I feel like teams and clubs kind of become a cult. And it’s almost as if people can’t join that cult if they weren’t there from the start.

          But maybe I’m just ranting to try to get around the fact that my sister got more valentines than I did.

          Please excuse me while I go wallow in my sorrows with a classic Disney movie and some pretzel M&Ms that my mother bought me.

          :)