Stalker Alert!

No, I'm not being stalked. I am, in fact, the stalker in question.

Confession time: I have this weakness for pretty-boys. And when I'm bored in class, my attention tends to wander - and what better to occupy my time than stalking - I mean, OBSERVING - people around me?

Take today, for example, in chemistry, when we were reviewing basic math and unit-conversions. (P.S: I'm a chemistry whiz-kid, and knew all of this three years ago.) Being in the back row provides an excellent position for stalking, and who should be sitting in front of me, right in my line of sight to the board, but a pretty blonde boy with gorgeous blue eyes?

Muahahaha.

Bored as I was (and having recently watched Sherlock Holmes online) I decided to infer as much as possible from what I could tell about Blondie. I won't go into the details now, but I certainly reported them to Emily :D and we decided he was a freshman (from the brand-new backpack and copious, overly-neat notes), not too concerned about appearance (from the wrinkled T-shirt and worn-out shoes, not to mention three or four days of stubble), a nail-biter, and possibly a math whiz (he never touched his calculator but managed to get all the right answers before the prof.)

This is where the fun part commenced: once class let out, I stalked him to his next class (math or a foreign language, since he disappeared into the Wallace building) and deduced that he was from central Kentucky (by the accent) and probably an engineering or mechanics major (from his phone conversation with his friend? girlfriend? mother?)

I'm not a creeper... really, I'm not...

Okay, maybe a little.