OITNC: The C is for Crazy

crazy eyes

Please be aware that this isn’t a prison story. However, given my track record with being a borderline stalker, I’m quite surprised that this isn’t how this story will end. This is a blog post about being slightly crazy. I believe we all have a bit of nutty side to ourselves, others more dangerous than I’d like to care for. There is however, a fun side to living life on the edge, and I don’t mean the Thelma and Louise kind.

I am going to tell you a story about myself, and if you want nothing to do with me after reading this blog post, I totally understand.

It all started a very young age. I learned quickly that throwing caution to the wind felt almost as good as eating an entire bag of candy. Of course, both of those carry consequences that don’t necessarily end well. I didn’t care though.

In high school I used to write love letters to guys I would have a crush on, stating that I loved them and they should tick the ‘yes’ box if the feeling was mutual. I was really brave for a Brace Face.

In college, I decided that letters just weren’t enough anymore, as action seemed to speak louder than my (written) words. It was time to step it up a notch and declare my love to the opposite sex in form of grand gestures.

It was the age of Facebook (when university students were mainly the only ones using it) and I had instantly grasped the concept of ‘FB creeping,’ which in my defense was purely innocent in the beginning.

It started with adding friends from my university that I met at parties, then slowly turned into stalking the guys I liked, “poking” them until they would notice me.

I’m not proud of this, but it actually worked for a while. Until the moment came where I had to speak to them face to face and I turned into a mute. This was the start of the Weird Looks.

That’s what I called guys that were categorised under this label due to the look they gave me after I professed my love to them. I don’t know what their problem was, I was the one putting myself out there.

My quest for a boyfriend continued for a while, even going as far as taking it across the Canadian border where I spent a majority of my time hanging out with my best friend.

Sometimes, it actually worked and a guy would like me back. I chose not to be surprised by this, since I was very intuitive and knew my self-worth at an early stage in life.

College love aside, I continued my quest to crazy town in my early to mid-twenties.

I was interning in Paris during the summer of 2012 when I met this gorgeous Frenchman walking by himself down the Seine. Naturally, I followed him. I was fairly new to Paris so I told myself that it was practically like having your own personal tour guide. We ended up near his flat at a park where I sat a bit further away from him. I mean, it’s one thing to follow someone across town, it’s another getting caught. I liked playing with fire, but I hate getting burned so I kept my distance and decided to just take pictures of him instead. Plus, I really didn’t fancy getting a French restraining order. Not that I’ve ever had one, but I’m not keen on ever visiting the inside of a jail cell to be honest.

I’m 27 now and my quirks are showing no signs of slowing down, but I’ll have more stories like these for you in the future. This is just the shameless beginning!

















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