Puppy Love

Where do I even begin?  Now that I am in a good relationship, it is easy for me to see just how hilarious my previous relationships were.  I will start from the top.   This entire story and most of the details are so embarrassing, but I am going to share them anyways.  Okay, I was fifteen years old.  My family got a computer and the most wonderful invention, the Internet.  I could not get enough of it. I would go to chat rooms and visit with kids just my age (or so they said).  

 Did I meet my first boyfriend online?  I wish I could say no.   I feel fairly confident that I was the first, and last, person to meet someone on the Internet that was actually what they said they were.  I started emailing back and forth with this guy who lived about an hour away.  One day he was going to be at the mall, and I was supposed to meet him.  I didn't really know what he was going to look like.  I had an image in my head.   I was surprised when I met him.  Apparently you do not pronounce the last name "Flores" like "floors."  I thought his last name was floors, as in my hardwood floors.  He was not blond headed as I had assumed he would be.   We ended up having a long distance  relationship for more than a year.  

I think it is pretty common for young girls to get their first boyfriend, "fall in love," and expect to marry them and have lots of babies.  I remember a family friend telling me, "you will date a hundred guys before you find the one."  I thought, "what does he know?"  Of course he was the one. I mean he was perfect.  We didn't live in the same town,  he would not call me for a week before or after my birthday or any holiday, I mean what else could a girl ask for? 

Old Soul

According to Urban Dictionary, an old soul is a person whom is beyond their years; people of strong emotional stability.  That is such a lovely term and I wish I could say I was an old soul.   A more accurate concept of what I would be considered is just an old person, trapped in the body of an old person, that resembles a young person. 

When I was in the fifth grade, I advanced to the Regional Science Fair for my exhibit on what juice best cleans a dirty penny.  If that wasn't nerdy enough on its own, I kicked it up a notch with my "reward."  My parents told me I could have anything I wanted.  (A side note: I am pretty sure they never told my sister she could have anything she wanted because she would have done the appropriate thing and request something lavish).  My request was to leave right then and go to the movie theatre to see Schindler's List.  My parents agreed and off we went to see the pre-teen cult classic.  The entire audience was there dressed up as characters from the movie.  Oh wait, no that isn't true.  I was probably the youngest, and only, kid in the theater.  

I remember going over to this old man's house to hear all of his World War II stories.  That was my idea of a fun Sunday afternoon.   Most of the time when a kid goes to his or her friend's house, they say "are your parents here?"  What they mean is "please tell me your parents are gone so we can break the rules."  If I were to ask that, my wish would be that the answer was yes, and I would get to chat with them a little. You know about politics or just whatever.  

Some of my earliest childhood memories are not of cartoons or childhood books.  Some of my earliest memories are scenes from Days of Our Lives.  I mean, who doesn't vividly remember a young Bo Brady, gazing into the eyes of a young Hope and saying something like , "Blah blah blah Fancy Face"?  

I was so into the OJ Simpson trial. I spent the entire summer break glued to the TV. I couldn't get enough of that crazy Kato. Marsha Clark's hair always killed me.   When school started, it was so hard to be at school knowing that the trial wasn't over.  I remember the day the verdict came out. I asked one of the teachers at lunch if she knew what happened.

It wasn't just my interests that were a bit on the old side.  My ailments also verged on being elderly.  In elementary school I had an upper gi.  I was put on an economy sized bottle of Tagamet to help with my social situation  induced/ performance anxiety. 

 I remember starting junior high hoping I would not get a bottom locker.   I was afraid it would be too hard on my knees.