Another exciting DOBBIN installment.

I hate pep rallies.

Or, to be precise, I strongly dislike pep rallies at my particular school. Football players and girls in ridiculous outfits paraded around as heroes, information irrelevant to me boomed over loudspeakers, the bleachers vibrating as my peers scream and bounce themselves up and down, "popular" music played loud enough to leave me nostalgic and teary before the whole thing even starts.

Really. I almost started crying.

I could continue on about how I feel like periphery, but that isn't what I set out to talk about here. I know, you're shocked. Katherine, with a purpose? What is this MADNESS?

Don't get excited. You're about to groan and smack yourself in the head as I again bring up your absolute most favorite topic.

Dobbin. Oh God. I know, I know. Please try to mask your excitement. This is why you love me; I regale you with tales of my heartbreak and you derive much pleasure from it. Or something. Where I was going with that is beyond me.

I talked myself into talking to him (let's take a break here to wince in unison). Or I talked myself into the idea that I could say something, that this would not cause my world to crumble and tear at the edges. And then, you know, I did it.

I feel like a stalker talking about this so much. As with anything, I guess this is a process. I was dealing with this ordeal much better before I was forced to see him several times a day. It's somewhat like starting all over on the "dealing with it" scale. Every time I see him I am catapulted into a state of semi-panic and have to work hard not to hyperventilate. I would also like to note that the dude is particularly conspicuous. He's really tall and ambles along in a goofy, charming manner and often wears striped shirts.

Yes. It is probably weird that I know this. It's kind of like I spot my target for the day and note the color of his shirt so I can divert my attention elsewhere when he comes into view. Somehow I am coming up with analogies to antelope right now. Okay.

Yesterday in our shared class (of love and sparkles and hate) I was sitting with my group as we discussed the proper way to convey psychological principles in a skit (we are so going to fail we are so going to fail I hope not oh why oh why panic time), and he randomly came over to us and I'm pretty sure I started having heart palpitations.

To put it fancily, I had had enough. There you go. Justification. You're welcome.

As class ended I stood at the back of the class thinking to myself I need to do this if I don't I never will just get it over with you bastard idiot. So, against all the beautiful judgement I have been granted in this life (otherwise known as chronic restraint), I walked over to him as he stood over a laptop.

"Hi," I said abruptly.

"Hi," he said. He didn't look up, continued to study the Important Messages the laptop was apparently broadcasting for his viewing pleasure.

I would just like to interrupt this message to say that I find it particularly hilarious that he's ignoring me. Okay dude, stare at me and then look away when I look up. I'll pretend not to notice and I will continue to snub you because I continue to have at least two and a half ounces of self respect.

He wanted to "still be friends," remember? Had I reacted differently, this would be a whole different ball game.

"I'm going to walk away in a minute," I said, "but I just wanted to say that I'm not happy about being in a class with you. It's very upsetting for me." At one point he looked up as words spilled from my lips, as every muscle screamed at me "NO NO NO NO I can't believe I'm doing this." And then I turned and I was gone and I had to remind myself to breathe as I stumbled towards my next class.

The part of me that didn't spend the following eight hours I had left of my day inwardly screaming to myself the fact that I am an idiot finds a vague amount of poetic justice in this. He walked away from the situation in breaking up with me in a text message and what-have-you, and I fully admit to the fact that before he "asked me out" I was planning to accost him in much the same way. Only, you know, with better news that time.

Now I ask myself, did this help? Will having said this, simple and not EVEN YELLING AND CALLING HIM NAMES as it is, help me move on?

Move on. Actual lols.

I'm working on it, comprendo? I assure you that this annoys me more than it annoys you. Other happy bits: as I walked into class today, Dobbin began babbling on about something one of his ex-girlfriends did that really angered him to the teacher at the doorway. Was this about me? Who knows. Who knows, but really? Just as I walk into the room? Good job, Dobbin. Good job. He also made a point of staring at me until I looked up from my Engrossing Paper That Was Interesting.

Conspicuous Dobbin is conspicuous. I'd say pep rallies are ruined for me, but that would be a lie. Considering I hate them already. Or, you know, strongly dislike pep rallies at my particular school. Whether he was flipping me off or merely the world in my direction at this pep rally I am unaware. I don't necessarily care, either. He flips everyone off.

I have such great taste in men.