Ctrl-A-Delete, a Glee fiction
Glee is not mine, but I love your reviews anyways!
Dear Blaine,
Carole brought home a gingerbread house. She needed an extra set of hands, so I volunteered to help her. Apparently it's some big family tradition for the Hudson's. So where was Finn during this family bonding moment? Would you laugh if I told you that he got a job as an elf at the Santa display in the mall? Good, because I love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. He's actually sporting a pair of reindeer antlers, singing Christmas carols with the rest of New Directions. Somehow Rachel got him to dress up as Rudolph. I'm not surprised.
We got the walls of the house to stand pretty quickly. I don't think you're supposed to have anything on the inside of the house, but the fudge block helped keep the walls up long enough to cement them together. We didn't have enough gingerbread to make a full mansion like I had wanted. So instead we made a cute little cottage that rivaled the Candyland game board. She invested a lot of time and effort into the project.
She shingled the roof with a box of Nilla Wafers while I made a path to the house out of yellow M&Ms. It took forever to sort out all of the colors. But seriously, who doesn't want to recreate a yellow brick road out of M&Ms? Don't answer that.
I was covered in gumdrop sugar, after making about a dozen flowers. Here I was thinking that we were all done when she wiped out the party mints and told me we were making a fence.
Family bonding is tough.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
It has been too long since I last had a hug. I know that sounds utterly ridiculous of me. I've hugged and been hugged on multiple occasions since break started. First, I hugged my dad. He welcomed it, returning the favor. Then he returned back to the sports game on tv. Then, I hugged Carole. She was happy to see me too, but she had buns in the oven. The kind you eat mind you. I'm not ready for another baby in the family. Finn kind of wants a younger brother that he can teach how to play football and embarrass when his friends are around. That, and I think he wants to see what having a baby around is really like after the whole Drizzle debacle. But come on. No man in his right mind wants to change a boy's diaper. It's a war zone down there.
I'd rather have a baby sister. One to indulge in tea parties with and manicure her into the perfect fashionista. I'd give her advice on boys, because at that point, I ought to know. I wouldn't let her wear lime green nail polish. (It's soooo tacky.) And somebody has to do her hair. Not that I don't trust Carole in the pigtail department, but Dad and Finn couldn't style their way out of a paper bag.
Ah, Finn. I tried to hug him too. That was an awkward moment. He's so ridiculously tall, and his gangly arms wrapped around me so tight he could've done a double loop. I thought he was being all brotherly and affectionate. Turns out he wanted to "take the key and lock me up." Yes, my step-brother has the mind of a five year old. Please get a girlfriend Finn. I hear Rachel's available.
I'm not going to be satisfied until I get to hug you again. And then DRATWATS. For your information that means Double Rainbow All The Way Across The Sky. Oh Gaga, I didn't mean double rainbows like two gays. I just fill with squee when we touch. I think I should shut up now.
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
Bluefly is having a sale on men's apparel. I found the most delectable sweater for half the original price. HALF Blaine. We're talking thirty dollars off a sixty dollar sweater. Now granted, being at Dalton, you will not be able to witness my awesome fashion skills. You know that I've pined after you for this long and I still can't describe your butt to Mercedes? She gets to go on about Anthony and how his jeans shape his rear. For all I know, you could have a granny rump! Please say you don't, or you'll ruin gay guy fantasies everywhere. Or my bedroom at the very least.
Speaking of old people, you'd never believe the email I got today. It was from some senior citizen dating site saying they'd found my perfect match. Now I know for a fact that my skin is impeccable. I pay far too much for that anti-aging cream for it not to be. To make matters worse, it was an old lady. I mean, if you're going to mistake me for an old person, could you at least pair me with the right gender? Thank you.
I am never going on one of those dating websites. I'd rather be sad and alone than have somebody take advantage of me. Yeah, hooking up in the broom closet of Subway doesn't sound all that fun to me. Who wants to fool around in a store that reeks of lettuce and cold turkey? Besides Santana that is. She didn't have to pay five dollars for her footlong. Brittney wasn't too happy that she had to wait for her half of the Spicy Italian, but they were low on cash. (And by Spicy Italian, I mean the sandwich, not the cashier.)
Ctrl-A-Delete
Dear Blaine,
There is something terribly wrong with the world we live in. Trying to pass the time until Mercedes is done caroling so we can indulge in a guilt free Christmas movie marathon (Polar Express and Miracle of 34th Street) I decided to go on Blogthings. Now normally I would not resort to such lowly forms of entertainment. But Dad was asleep upstairs, so blasting Jason Mraz's Winter Wonderland was not an option. Instead, I clicked on a page I remember seeing Rachel click on once upon a time in the school library before she got together with Finn. The quiz seems to believe that I am a fantasy lover. SERIOUSLY? I must know Blaine, is this fact? Do my seduction games of cat and mouse work their ways into your fantasies? I know you've been haunting my dreams. Perhaps haunting isn't the right word. You've been lingering in my dreams. Dancing around like a freaking Sugar Plum fairy, without a care in the world.
Out of sheer curiosity, I also took the what condiment are you test. I'm ketchup. You wouldn't happen to be mayonnaise or mustard would you? They're highly compatible.
New email from Blaine. Read.
Dear Blaine,
Red it is. I hope your mom likes gingerbread.
Meet you under the mistletoe,
Backspace
Your Majesties exiled servant,
Backspace
Missing yo,
Kurt
(P.S. Get it? Since the "u" is gone and all? Okay, even I know that was lame.)