Sometimes you just have to go back to the drawing board

With nobody's permission, I am going to make a long-winded comparison between love and literature, because it's never been done before.

I shall be innovative tonight! Have showered and will make profound comparison between love and literature!

Let's go through the crushes I had way back when in my life when I still had a heart not hardened by years of analyzing complex sentence constructions and solving calculus proofs.

Preschool: Daniel.

I remember him well. We were working on a Cinderella puzzle together one day when we discovered we were missing THE FINAL PIECE and we could not finish up the pumpkin.

This would set the tune for the rest of my life. Always one crucial piece in the equation is missing for the whole kit and caboodle to work.

Then he had to go to the hospital because he swallowed a dime and it would not come out of him.

Where he is now: No idea. He might never have recovered from the dime incident.

Kindergarten: Michael Werno.

Oh Lord, was that ever adorable. He made a song for me. It went like this:

Little lover,
With her chubby cheeks

I kid you not. I can even sing it for you now. I blame him for my lifelong complex concerning my weight. If I recall correctly, we even got engaged. Then he moved to Connecticut or something.

Where he is now: Duke. I facebooked him like it was my job, and we are currently friends through there.

1st Grade: Nicky Thomas.

Nothing much to say. He was blonde and tanned, and I swear he had a crush on Mindy Kosaka.

Where he is now: He's a pothead or something. Most likely drugged up in my suburb attending community college high.

2nd Grade: Don't remember. I can guarantee you it didn't work out though.

3rd Grade: Mike Woods.

He was from the east coast. He was Different. He was Unlike Any Other Boy At School. This translates into he had a ponytail, and a weird accent. I sat next to him for a month and I thought I would die from happiness every single day.

Where he is now: No clue. He moved back to the east coast though.

4th Grade: I think this is when I liked Cody Berman, who incidentally went to my preschool. The only thing I can think of why I liked him was because he was funny and cute.

Where he is now: Probably with Nicky Thomas.

5th Grade: This is when I met the Roitstein twins, Andrew and Matthew, through my sister, who was in 7th grade at the time. Andrew was funny, tall, talented, and still is. He had a crush on my sister, I had a crush on him.

Where he is now: Juilliard. Actually, soon to be in Chicago this weekend. Sorry Andrew, I got over you.

6th Grade: Rhett Hornberger

He played the DRUMS. And he had LONG HAIR. Plus, if you do that "true love" equation thing with our names, we totally ended up about 110% meant for each other, because he has fit nearly every damn vowel from "true love" into his name.

Where he is now: I seem to recall remember seeing him with ginormous expander earrings straining in his earlobes and with shaved arms, like a seal. He lifted lots of weights in high school.

7th-8th Grade: I had enough sense to realize that with braces adorning your teeth, you should not even open your mouth to talk or eat, but rather carry around a whiteboard and be tube-fed.

7th-8th grade was a God-awful time for me.

9th Grade: I think this is when I should stop using names. HA! HA! OR NOT!

Paul Strickland. He had a crush on my sister.

Where is he now: Gay. And living with his parents.

10th Grade to an obscenely long time sometime last year: THIS is where I'll stop. Sometimes I use less than 1/18 of my brain for thinking than the average person.

Now: *withers...dies...crashes* Forget it, Adrianne. After watching the top 101 Hottest Bodies show before falling asleep on Tina's bed this afternoon and seeing what's going on the meat market recently, I see I have no chance.

Thanks, Michael Werno.

*Heaves world weary sigh and shakes head forlornly*

In short, there is this very wise saying my 12 grade English teach always said that you can't make the round peg fit into the square hole. Or the square peg fit into the round hole.

Lesson: I have to get rid of a big chunk of my research paper. Namely, I am only going to use half of my idea for the thesis, in hopes that writing each word will not make me sweat blood bullets or make me wish I could perform operations on myself that would make me permanently mentally and/or visually impaired. And maybe I would get more than 2 pages a day written.

For tonight, though, I'm going to sleep.

Here are some pictures: