I get really bad nosebleeds?

If I wrote an autobiography it would probably be called something like "The Tales of a Super Awkward Girl." Awkward moments seem to define my life in the same way plastic surgery defines Kim K's.

So here it goes again.

I had finally gathered some of my limited supply amounts of courage and I sat down next to a cute boy in my Political Science class. (Isn't this how all embarrassing stories begin?) Things were going great, we were discussing every cliche small chat topic there is; the weather, our majors, the upcoming midterm, goats who climb up trees, our mutual belief in mermaids, etc. Oh, and the fact that he loves science, but doesn't want to be a doctor because he's afraid of blood. ** <Important.

Then class started. Now, sadly, lecture beginning isn't the worst part of my tale. We had scooted to the very middle of the auditorium rows. (This is important for the future of this story.) And he and I were still talking here and there a little throughout the lecture.

Then, half way through the lecture, I turn to talk to the cute boy and suddenly blood starts to gush out my nose. It is flowing like mad and I wish I had a tampon so I could pull a "She's the Man" on this nose bleed. But unfortunately I didn't even have a tissue. His eyes wide with pure terror. I slammed my hand to my face, stood up and started trying to squeeze my way out of the classroom. I was nearly to the end of the row when I tripped right in front of my professor. All eyes were on me in the center of the class, it was just like a circus. It was the kind of nightmare that keeps people like Matthe McConaughey up at night.

I fled from that class room faster than Harry Potter could say "quidditch." (Side note: I am counting that as my exercise for the day.)

I don't know if I want to relive the rest of this adventure by writing it, but let's just say that reentering the classroom to get my belongings was...awkward.