life and other extraneous info |
I guess to do this right, I really need to go back a ways. My very first boyfriend was Sean H., and we were in kindergaten. He lived in the two story house on the corner of my street. Our dating experience consisted of playing ballgames in the street together and sitting together on the bus. We were doomed early on since the kids on our street were almost all boys. There were no girls to giggle with me about my boyfriend. Instead, we had boys singing K-I-S-S-I-N-G songs. We never had a chance; we just weren't strong enough to thumb our noses at a wolrd that was trying to tear us apart. Flashforward to the summer between 6th and 7th grade and Scott Y. Scott was my first kiss but a very short-lived boyfriend. It's sad to say, but I don't remember how it ended. I just remember the first kiss and how scandalous I felt because we were at my friend Adriana's house and her parents were not home. This could have been one of those defining, rebellious moments where I turned into a bad girl, but I was more comfortable being just a little bad (hmmm, early roots?). There were a few middle school pseudo-boyfriends, but they aren't interesting enough to get into. Suffice it to say, a lot of dunking each other in the pool, tickling each other, and "accidentally" brushing into one another was involved. A little hand-holding, a lot of giggling, some blushing, much angst. The next two were not boyfriends, but they are absolutely important to mention here. They establish my pattern of I-always-want-what-I-can't-have. They are also a testament the strength of friendships. Brian K. If my generation only would have used the word dreamy, that's how I would have described Brian. He was one of those gentle, silent, mysterious types. Now that I'm older, I've learned that silent doesn't always mean mysterious. Sometimes, it just means nothing's going on upstairs. I think it was the latter in his case, but it takes some age and experience to learn the difference. Just so you know, I was going to marry him someday. That is, until I caught my best friend, Mindy, kissing him under the covers at Michele C.'s birthday party. At this age, it didn't matter that Brian had no interest in me; Mindy was forever branded with a scarlet letter S (for slut) in my mind. **side note** Mindy and I are still close friends to this day, and she's just accepted that the S will never go away! However, Brian C. is the reason Mindy truly doesn't deny her S status. One time okay, but come on! The summer between 8th and 9th grade, a group of us were at Astroworld for the day. My crush this time was on a new Brian. In hindsight, I'm awfully glad that I wasn't the one kissing this boy (keep reading and you'll see). Mindy got bored while I was playing game after game and talked Brian into walking around with her. When we finally caught up hours later, of course, it was to find them smooching. The reason this one's fun to tease Mindy about is because in the coming weeks, we learned that Brian was a stinky boy! Not just a one time BO either; he was pulling that cover-the-stink-with-cologne move. It even got progressively worse over a period of days. The dirty cologne smell kept getting stronger. Yuck! I shamelessly took a lot of pleasure in her trying to extricate herself from that relationship. **side note #2** Mindy is married now, so it's safe for me to date again... The next one is really embarrassing, but it must be told... I was fifteen-years-old and he was twenty-one. I really don't know what his plans were beyond being a skate guard at the roller rink, but what did it really matter? He was beautiful and had a tortured, sexy vibe about him. I worked in the snack bar at the skating rink that summer and saved my $3.35 and hour to buy him a diamond earring for his birthday. Do I need to mention how stupid I feel admitting this? Do I need to mention how very upset my parents were about the whole relationship? I was never so offended, however, as when my father warned me not to get pregnant. I wasn't that kind of girl! Yet. But, some innocence was shattered at this time in my life. We went to a party and I saw people doing cocaine. I didn't freak out, but I did ask him to take me home. Looking back, I'm pretty damn proud of myself for that moment. Some of the other, older girls at the skating rink were pretty protective of me and warned me about him (and threatened him about me), but I still had another shock coming. We were in his car and he pulled my hand down his pants (he wasn't forceful, just sort of cajoling). Somehow, he lost his sexy appeal in that moment. I was way out of my element and feeling very uncomfortable. I pulled away, and finally began to wonder what appeal a fifteen-year-old could have for a twenty-one-year-old. It was time to move on. Next, came Justin, my true first love, but I think I'll save his story for another day. He deserves his own entry! |