Saturday, December 10, 2011

Day 10: And they call it puppy love

 Discuss your first love and first kiss.

We're really going into the vault for this one, aren't we?  Interestingly, my first love and my first kiss did not involve the same guy.  Not by a long shot.

My first kiss...

Picture it:  1985.  8th grade.  Big hair, Converse kicks and pegged jeans.  Grandview Park overlook.  Me, Rob P., and my annoying brother.  The kind of drama and tension only eighth graders can create.  Will he or won't he?  Significant glances, the touch of fingertips, the smell of way too much Polo cologne.  Annoying Brother interrupting over and over and over again.  Missed opportunity after missed opportunity.  The pressure of knowing curfew was arriving.  Annoying Brother finally saying, "Oh my gosh, are you just gonna kiss her or what???"  The release of tension that comes from laughing at Annoying Brother.  Two faces, drifting closer and closer together, lips finally touching...








My lip.  Getting caught on his braces.  Ow ow ow ow!  Blood everywhere.  So romantic.  NOT.  It will come as no surprise that we broke up a few days later.  The magic just wasn't there.


My first love...

My first love (true, total and absolute love) was Scott C.  He was my second high-school boyfriend.  The first was Jim.  He was a junior and I was a freshman, and he was so popular and cute and I never felt worthy of him.  I liked him a LOT, and probably would have fallen in love with him had he not broken my poor little 15-year old heart.  Scott came along when I was a junior, and he was a senior.  We'd had a flirtation that involved a lot of teasing, poking, and ridiculing over the previous two years, and when I was a junior, it finally escalated to something more.  I remember the day it *happened*.  It was the afternoon of open house, and I had to stay after school to prepare for a rhythmic gymnastics demonstration that evening.  We got done with our rehearsal, and Scott was hanging around, so we started goofing off.  Somehow, we ended up in the basement of the school, chasing each other (sooo mature, I know).  He cornered me in a doorway, and I looked at him, and in my best seductive temptress voice (*schnort*) I said, "Kiss me, you fool!"

And he did.  It was magical.  (No braces, no blood, no pain!)

We dated for about 5 months.  It was great.  My mom and his mom had gone to school together (or maybe worked together...I can't remember all these years later.) so our families had a connection, too.  It felt right, I fell madly in love with him, and thought he was madly in love with me back.  Right up until the moment when he announced, right before prom, that he was dumping me for my friend (a FRESHMAN, no less!  *clutches pearls*) and that he'd be taking her to prom.  I.  was.  so.  MAD.

Lucky for Todd, I didn't let the bad taste left behind by Scott, or any of the other guys who broke my heart, turn me off men forever.  And lucky for me, I ended up with the best guy of them all, happily ever after (and all that other romantic, gooey, heart-shaped junk).  I definitely picked a winner!

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