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No, not Twilight.  Vampire romances never bit me.  I’m talking about an awkward teen in England that goes by Georgia Nicholson.

She shaved her eyebrows, went to a party dressed as a stuffed olive, but most importantly she taught me to laugh at my own self more while comforting me that I’m not the only person in the world that confides in my cat because that’s the only one that can understand me (sometimes, at least… sometimes even the cat can be heartless… does that make sense to anyone?).  She taught me the terms “sex god,” “have the painters in,” and “how’s your father,” and ultimately helped me to feel less awkward around guys.

I rediscovered my love (not of the lesbian kind, but one similar to a “man-crush”—I have a wonderful boyfeller) for Georgia when my English professor gave us an assignment to imitate an author of our choice, as long as the chosen author didn’t write poetry or plays.  It took me a while to decide on the perfect author for me—people threw out suggestions like Fitzgerald, Hunter S. Thompson and John Updike—but then a comment from an old friend on facebook reminded me (indirectly) of Louise Rennison, who wrote the series “Confessions of Georgia Nicholson,” and the first book is titled Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging.

This character, although fictional, is probably my “twin.”  Please, just find the book and read like, the opening page.  You’ll see why I say she’s my alter-ego.  We share so many similarities, except I suppose I’m a more mature version of her.

Georgia experienced seriously awkward moments in her life while she was growing up, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of “awkwardosity.”

She may have a 3-year-old sister that peed somewhere in her room, but my roommate has a Yorkie that can’t control her bowel movements… particularly in my room, for whatever God-forsaken reason.  She’s French-savvy (to some degree), and I struggle with it somewhat.  But I’m good with coffee.  I’m devilishly good with coffee.  In fact, I’m “double cool with knobs” when it comes to coffee.  Georgia’s so-called best friend, Jas, started a rumor that Georgia is a lesbian (which isn’t true, mind you), and my roommates nicknamed me “Shitney,” because of wonderfully awkward moments, a.k.a. dumb blonde moments, that I have from time to time.  I should probably also explain here that we have our own language called “shanguage,” that replaces the first two consonants in a word with “sh-.”  My name is Brittney.  Just think about that one a second.

So, here’s to you Georgia Nicholson.  May we meet someday in another world.

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