Twas Brillig

Okay–quick note. If you’re here looking for Stacy’s (of Jurgen Nation fame) interview for me, please check back tomorrow. The questions require a lot more brain cells than I currently have at my disposal…

So! Another week, another Soap Opera Sunday!

I was going to pick up where I left off last time–in Argentina. The next Argentine story is a pretty dang good one. But I can’t pass up the opportunity to explain one more little tiny detail of the dreaded Christmas Formal, featured in my last Flashback Friday post. You’ve seen the pic before, but you’re gonna need it again for the full effect of this Soap Opera.

Okay, you already know about Satan, my date. And you’ve heard a bit about Kate’s date too. But there’s one more person you need (and I use the word “need” VERY loosely) to know about. He’s the OTHER guy on the back row. Ahahahaha. And his presence in our “date group” made that night, oh, just SO much more interesting than it would have been if it were just Kate’s psycho date and, well, Satan.

Because, you see, that guy and I had gone to the exact dance (the Christmas Formal) the year before.

He and I had actually flirted with each other for pretty much 3 years straight by this point. Why it took us so long to actually go out and do something together, I’ll never know. But what you need to know about me was that I was extremely innocent. And I was a very good girl, so while there was flirting a-plenty, I hadn’t actually had a real boyfriend or (and now I’m really blushing) even kissed a boy for real. I was 16, by the way.

The guy, however, wasn’t innocent… or what you might call a good boy. Not that he was terrible, or anything. He just didn’t fit into the bubble of prudishness that I lived in.

My parents, however, almost had a total heart attack when this boy showed up at my house, scruffy-faced and earring-ed. Hahaha. I never even thought about how they might react to him! I just thought he was hot.

Anyway, date goes fine. We actually had a really good time. He was on his best behavior. And towards the end of the night, he was actually bold enough to put his arm around me, which I found kinda sweet. And I was totally into him. And while I knew he was into me too, he was keeping more distance than I’d expected–or wanted. (Though, looking back, I think he was afraid of ruining things, because I think he really did like me, and I was, as I said, rather a prude.)

So then he dropped me off at my house, and walked me to my door, and, well, I kissed him. I kissed him. I think that that was very unexpected… Anyway, it turned into an all-out make-out session, right there on my front porch. This was my first kiss…

(What I DIDN’T know was that my mother was waiting up for me and was incredibly worried about me.)

Suddenly, in the middle of full make-out mode, MY MOTHER KNOCKS ON THE WINDOW RIGHT BY MY HEAD AND ORDERS ME INSIDE. And I went inside–didn’t even say goodnight to the poor guy.

I really don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my whole life.

And boy did my mother let me have it. She thought that I’d been keeping all sorts of secrets from her and that I was some sex-obsessed heathenistic mutant. Great. So now I had a curfew. Now she had to meet my friends. Now she was gonna be on my back all the time. (The reality was, I was actually a REALLY GOOD KID! I know I said that already, but holy crap! You would be hard-pressed to find a teenager more angelic than I was.) (Also, she was too busy to actually have any idea who I was, or to do the checking-up on me that she threatened to do.)

ANYWAY, when I went back to school on Monday, I walked passed him in our Honors English class (see? A badboy in Honors English? You see why I was interested, right?) and he didn’t look at me. Didn’t talk to me. Didn’t seem to notice me leaning towards his desk to say “hi.”

“Fine,” I thought. “Screw you.” And it was actually kind of a relief, because as much fun as I had with him, I knew that I didn’t really want to be his girlfriend or anything. So this saved me from having to have that particular talk with him.

The next thing I know, he’s told the whole world his version of the story which somehow boiled down to the fact that I broke his heart, and I was the “Ice Queen” (a nickname that an amazing amount of young men throughout the school called me, even when I was making out with them) and yadda yadda yadda. Uh… he’d never called me, he never spoke to me, and now I’d broken his heart? I felt like I missed a whole chapter in our book, because none of it ever made any sense to me! Anyway, he managed to get that story pretty well-told, and “rebounded” with a group of Freshmen girls who, because of his story, hated me. A lot. (Those girls are now some of my very bestest friends and we actually think it’s all pretty dang hilarious now, but at the time they made my life a living hell.)

Of course, since we were involved in all the same things in high school, life was pretty tricky. Even so, we both grew up a bit and got over the awkwardness and got on with life. But I did learn later that he had sorta kept pining for me throughout the rest of high school, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention it because he was certain that I was over him. And he was right. I was.

So, happy Soap Opera Sunday, friends! Stay tuned for next week’s installment, where I will once again tell you of my most awful and awkward moments, and you will laugh at me and my pain. That’s what I’m here for.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS