The diary of Melissa Green: vegetarian, atheist, big sister and the victim of an unfair life, in anyone's eyes...
Aaaaaah... Please excuse me while I drown in a huge lake full of happiness and that squishy lovey-dovey feeling I get when a certain someone looks at me.
Okay, okay. I was at Izzie's house, and we were stuffing our faces full of Doritos and Doctor Pepper, slouching on her sofa watching Hannah Montanah with Riya, Izzie's sister.
Izzie's brother George walked in with a group of indie friends, and announced that we may want to leave the premesis on the basis that they were having a band rehersal in the garage.
Cleverley, Izzie promptly pointed out that their "Rehersal Den" was the abandoned barn in the field behind the house, but George said that that was irrelevant and that cheesy, American strains of Hannah Montanah may affect their sensitive creativitey.
Equally cleverly, we left before he got laired at us. Mooching round the streets of Burpham was decidedly un-fun, so we decided that for amusment purposes only, we would sneak into school and watch the teacher gym club.
Seeing overweight, middle aged men doing yoga is the most hilarious thing to watch in Guildford on a Thursday evening. Unfortunatley, lot's of teachers were in Wales with the german half of Year 8, so teachers gym had been cancelled.
HOWEVER, as we were slouching out of the school gates, Izzie clocked the hysterically handsome Jason Pink releaxing on the low rise stone wall across the road.
'Look!' Izzie had hissed, very conspicously, may I add. 'It's him!'
She said "him" with the kind of reverence churchy people use when refering to God. In our books, Jason Pink is officially the God of the whole of George Abbot secondary.
My Clarks pumps stuck to the pavement as I swooned silently, as he stretched and yawned, in a very attractive way. It was when I stumbled forwards and tripped over an equally dazed Izzie when my life ended.
He actually looked up from his iPhone, and put down his Red Bull. He stood up, walked over and offered me a hand. He offered me his hand. To try and help me. Help me.
Oh. My. God. I am never, ever, ever in a million years washing this hand again. Izzie wanted to get her whizz scientist Dad to take a DNA sample from my recently Jason Pink contaminated hand, but I deemed it as a little to stalkerish.
Didn't stop me from going, 'Aspryibspqywybaqprybzxca,' at him when any sane human being would give a simple, 'Thank you for your kindness, oh God of all Extreme Hotness.'
Moment was only marred when I got home and Mum made me clean up cat sick from the landing. Ah, well. The things you do for love..