Damn You, Spreadsheet of Truth

I often come up with unorthodox solutions to help me with my problems. In situations in which most people would turn to a best friend, I turn to a friend I only barely know. So, of course, in a situation in which most girls would scratch their pretty little heads and shrug their pretty little shoulders and put the matter at the back of their minds, I turned to a spreadsheet.

I have this thing with spreadsheets. They make me feel... safe, I suppose you could say. Spreadsheets, graphs, charts- they all give me a feeling that everything is going to be okay. They're comforting. Call me OCD, call me a freak, I don't care.

Here's the situation: you know the nerdy boy I've been pining after the last few posts (who, for clarity, we will now call Kirby)? Well, as is the usual when I like someone and they like me back (I think I may write a post about that particular issue of mine), my feelings for him sort of faded. And by "sort of faded," I mean I can still see myself dating him, I just don't see myself kissing him, and when I think about him, I don't get that little lurch in my stomach. Unfortunately, that means I won't let myself date him (I refuse to allow myself to date someone to whom I am not even slightly physically attracted, as I believe that relationships should have a healthy physical level). I don't think it's anything he's done; it's just me being me.

So, while I'm pondering that, along comes a boy we will call the President. Why? Oh, you'll find out. God forbid he ever reads this blog. *shudder* If any of my "readers" who know me still actually read this, and you figure out who the President is (because honestly, if you know me and even know of him, you'll figure it out), you'd best not tell him about this blog, or so help me I will kick your ass. And cry, probably.

Now, I used to have quite the crush on the President. Unfortunately, none of the signals I was sending out seemed to get any reciprocation. I resigned myself to the fact that I was being obvious, and that if he liked me, he would have asked me out by the end of the school year. So... I gave up. I gave up, and (shit, now my throat's going all dry and my eyes are getting all watery) I listened to Bulletproof ("I'll never let you sweep me off my feet," indeed) a thousand times over, and I got over him. I actually stopped talking to him for a period of time. I don't think he noticed, but... maybe he did. I don't know. The first week of summer vacation, getting it off my chest, I told him that when, on Valentine's Day, he'd asked if he could be my Valentine and I said no, I'd actually meant to say yes, but I didn't have the guts to go back and fix it. Of course, he asked me about the message later, and I just told him that I was frolicking about telling people all the things that had been stuck in my head all semester, and that this was all brought on by a Mountain Dew overdose.

Anyways, I thought I was completely over the President. That I was totally into Kirby. But no, the President just had to come along and fucking mess everything up. Actually, he didn't "come along;" he just responded to my starting a conversation. I sent him something along the lines of, "ello there!" and we went from there. The conversation ended with us having gone back in forth in nonsense (him in French, me in Spanish) and having created a Facebook page for his run for presidency (hence, the President), him going off to bed to sleep, and me wondering what the hell had just happened.

I realized some things while thinking about that conversation: a) I like doing ridiculous things for no reason, and b) the President makes my heart beat and my stomach tickle. Oh, and c) I really need to work on typing things right the first time.

Because this just put me in an absolute tizzy, I ran to the only available comfort... a spreadsheet (see, Persephone is asleep and Ember is at the Deathly Hallows part 2 premiere without me, the little chit). Down the leftmost column (column A), I put all the traits I value in a guy and how much I value them on a scale from one to ten (one being least, ten being most).

Example: Friendly (7)

Then, at the top of columns B and C, I put their names. After that, I just worked down each guy's column, giving him a score for each trait. For example, for Spontaneous (which was worth eight), Kirby got a five and the President got a seven.

At the bottom of column A, I put Total (164) because total, the value of the traits ended up being one hundred sixty-four points. Then, I added up each of the guy's point totals and put them in the Total row.

Kirby got 118.5 points (or 72%), and the President got 133.5 points (or 81%). It's not a wide margin to win by, but I may have upped Kirby's scores a bit for fear I'd be unfair due to my recent feelings as of late, and I may have brought the President's scores down for the same reason.

I think the reason I like spreadsheets is that they tell me what I already knew in a manner I can't ignore. It's fact now.