Q: What do you get...

... when you mix: A really hot guy + poetry + an old friend's death?
A: Lots of tears.

So a few weeks ago I showed you all my poem, The Revenge of Jane. I submitted it into the Cowboy Poetry contest held yearly at the library, and won first place for the fourth consecutive time. Being a winner, I was asked to read it aloud at the Western festival they always host. M'kay, whatever. I'll read then leave.

But of course, the sensitive, emotional, and totally embarrassing side of me just HAD to show that day.

You see... just a couple weekends ago, my old friend Jennifer died in a car wreck. She was 18, and I had danced with her for over 6 years. An 18 wheeler basically drove through one side of the car, and Jennifer, being the only one NOT wearing a seat belt, was thrown from the vehicle, and was the only one who died. Jennifer was... well, she was the definition for awesome. (She wore high-top converse shoes to the prom. She's like, my hero for that.) And now she's gone...

Just a few months before THAT, another person died in a car wreck. His name was Shane. I remember Shane. I only met him once, but once was enough. It was at a Cowboy Poetry contest where we both entered, and my poem won over his - and it shouldn't have. We talked for a long while after the contest about our poems. He was very kind, polite, and obviously a charming cowboy gentleman. I'll never forget him. And THIS particular contest that I entered with The Revenge was dedicated to Shane. And a bit of my poem was written for him.

So here I was, clutching my already depressing poem and thinking about the sad stories of my friends, and I get to the contest and realize that they've already read my poem out loud since I wasn't there in time.

I tried not to, but I cried.

And of course, the poor librarians felt bad, and just HAD to make me read my poem after the adult division was over.

And woe of woes... when I stood up in the front to read my poem, already red-eyed and shaking, THERE in the front was Chris, one of the hottest and most unavailable guys in Dirtville. All i can remember thinking at that point was "Oh shoot."

And from there, I sobbed. Each verse came out choked back with tears. Each word, each line and paragraph was a battle between myself and my voice to say it in English. When I paused, I realized that the entire room was dead silent. A pin could have dropped and deafened us all. How embarrassing. I did my best to cover up and finish my poem with what dignity I had left, and the room erupted with applause. I was humiliated and shuffled away as fast as I could without blindly running into the sound equipment.

And naturally, Chris came up and talked to me. Shoot. He was very nice, and sensitive to my tears. He said that I almost made him cry along with me. Great. And then he said it was a terrific poem and he thoroughly enjoyed it. Omgsh... Can I hug you?

I left as soon as I could - which was after I gave an autographed copy of my poem to a woman who said it was "the best poem she had heard in her life." O.O Yeahhhhh... I swear that was one of the most embarrassing days I have ever experienced.

R.I.P. Jennifer and Shane... You are dearly missed.