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February 8, 2011
I don't have enough nerve to call the object of my crush, so I do what any normal 11-year-old would do: Call pretending to be one of his closest friends, whose voice, for some reason, I've learned to impersonate to startling perfection.

"Hello Timmy, this is Janice!"

How can I be so short-sighted that I don't realize that if he's fooled by that salvo, he'll pursue further conversation, none of which I've rehearsed for proper tone and inflection?

I sputter a wholly unconvincing follow-up.

The next day I'm forced to apologize to both, without a script, in my own voice.