God I hate myself for loving him. He is such a jock. And I, I'm the crazy, probably insane, bubbly, giggly girl. But Stan, oh sweet Stan, he's my muse. The line of glue that holds me close to sanity. He is so easy to talk to, to laugh with, to love. He'd never judge you, and he's a damn good listener. He even buys me snacks from the lunch-line, knowing that I am a major food-fanatic. How could some ditz like me compare to the graceful, elegant Wendy? With her looks and poise and stupid ugly bitchy faced UGLYNESS. Urgh, sorry. My ADD got the best of me right there. But anyhoo, I doubt Stan would even consider me as a…a girlfriend. Heehee. It sounds so awesome. Mrs. Litzy Marsh. Damn, that has a glorious ring to it, doesn't it? But hey, I'd never expect someone like….like Avery to understand. She's concerned with looking good and getting the boys. But me? I'd like to say that I'm more deep than that. I want to someone to truly love the real Litzy Wellz. Not just my looks, which by the way…eh.. they're okay I guess. Stan's just…he's so perfect. It seems like he could turn any bad situation into something good. I mean…that's what his is; something good.