This week, Geeraff has a special guest: her cousin! —Sparkitors
Ah, the holidays.
Although I was forced to forgo seeing those strange creatures that make their habitat at my school’s residence, it was nice and relaxing to be home. Until, that is, my family arrived.
Thankfully for me, I have a voice of reason on my side, and that is my cousin. I’m the lucky one in our relationship. She’s the one who had to spend a whole YEAR AND A HALF without me before I was born. But since then, she’s been the wind beneath my wings. In fact, my cousin has given me many things, from countless hand-me-down clothes all the way to my sense of humor.
So who better to ask for boy hunting advice? (If you answered “nobody,” you were correct! You deserve a brownie!) (Actually, I’ve never tried making brownies. I’m sorry I said that.) (Wait! I can make pancakes. Are pancakes all right?) (What am I saying? Pancakes are better than all right.)
Let me paint a picture for you. I’m at my cousin’s house, and she’s sitting in the chair next to me. We both have our laptops out. Breaking the silence, I look up and say to her, “Hey. Pick a nickname for yourself.”
And without missing a beat, she looks back up at me and whispers, “Ursula.” Now I’m just picturing her as a giant-evil-octopus-woman. But don’t you start thinking that, because she’s not a giant at all! (Ha ha! That’s what you get, cuz, for yelling at me when I told you your outfit didn’t match. As much as I love your cow shorts, they don’t really go with your orange knitted socks.)
Well, without further ado, here is a word-for-word conversation between Geeraff and Ursula, the romantically challenged cousins. (Note: the term "romantically challenged" came from my aunt. She asked Ursula why I was interviewing her for this blog, then answered her own question and said, “Is it because you can’t get a date either?” Yep.)
-Hello, Ursula.
-Hello, Geeraff.
-Ursula, why am I unable to talk to boys?
-(Nostril flare.) I believe the reason—(I was fully intent on typing her every word, but she was talking too fast. And I’m too lazy. Long story short, Ursula thinks I could talk to a boy if I were alone with him, without other people around. Which makes sense. I think.)
-Ursula, in the time you’ve known me, what have you learned?
-Considering I've known you for an excruciatingly long time... I’ve learned that when you say “I don’t know,” it really means “no.” Which could get you in trouble in the future. I’ve never, in the history of us knowing each other, seen you blow your nose. You simply pinch your nostrils together, and you’ve kept the same Kleenex in your pocket since 2004.
-Next question.
-No! Not done yet. You are addicted to zip-up hoodies. And creepily staring at you for more than two minutes sends you into fits of laughter...
-That’s probably enough.
-We’re just scratching the surface.
-Ursula, in your opinion, what is my best physical feature?
- (Before I finished saying the question) Your butt.
-Is that all?
-I rather enjoy your feet, but only because I like to make fun of them. And I’ve always been a fan of your eyebrows, but only because mine are the size of Milwaukee. (Pause while I try to spell Milwaukee.) I only picked that word because you don’t know how to spell it.
-I’ve run out of questions.
-Your weebles are nice. (Note: weebles is the term she coined for my long fingers.)
-Do you think any of these features would be attractive to the opposite species?
-They should love you for your personality.
-Are you calling me ugly?
-They should love you for your personality. (Pause.) You’re getting quite pushy for compliments.
-Thank you for your time.
(Then she tried to trip me as I walked away.)
So, ignoring the majority of our scheduled interview, I agree that maybe I could talk to a boy, such as Hodgins, if I somehow managed to construct a foolproof trap and lure him in with video games and then tie him up and refuse to let him go until he talked to me...
Wait. Never mind. I don’t know his favorite video game. Oh well.
I think the lesson learned is that although I’ve been leaning on my fabulous friends, (who are fabulous) I could venture on some solo hunting trips. Yes? Yes!
Actually, now this makes a lot of sense. You’re supposed to go hunting alone. Not bring everyone you’ve ever met, all dressed in neon colors, singing Disney songs and shooting off fireworks. Not exactly a recipe for success.
So here’s a big thank you to Ursula (who is not an octopus) for this new strategy. There you go. I learned something over break! Pancakes for Geeraff!
I also learned that no matter how sturdy you think the snow unicorn you built with your cousin in the front lawn that you named “Shazam” after the fat cat in the video you found on YouTube is, it won’t take much for him to fall.
This is for you, Shazam. We hardly knew thee.
What do you think of Geeraff's new tactic?
Related post: Boy Hunt: Why Geeraff is Lame
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