Chronicles of Boyfriendia-Numero Seis

Ah! The masses have missed me. I never thought self esteem was an issue until I bought into blogging for the masses. Friends, Romans, Countrymen-- I hope that you are enjoying not just the chronicles... but my candor as well!

Ken
He was a football player. He had a pool in his backyard and it was summertime. How hard is that to decide upon??? DUH! Ken also takes the award for "First Boy to REALLY Make Me Cry". Ken was a Methodist. That really has nothing to do with all of this... but it's another interesting fact about him for you to enjoy. Ken was really cool, despite the Methodist upbringing. He caught me one time when I fell off roof because I was trying to be cool and hide the flag in the game Capture the Flag. *it seemed like a good idea at the time* He also was the first boy to send me flowers. Ah...

BUT...he also made me really cry. It was awful. I still don't think that I really, really liked him-- but no one warns you about rejection. It hurts like hell. Ken decided that he didn't get to see me enough (he was in public school... I was homeschooled) and so rather than see me on weekends, he'd just rather not see me at all. I think that's when I was first introduced to men and their bullsh*t. Sorry for the crassness, but that's exactly what they do-- lies=crass=dirty words. A little formula for the mathematically inclined. So... back to my story. When he calls me to tell me this my feelings are hurt.

Now, my mom has this nasty habit of walking. She says it is for her physical health-- and I don't doubt that-- but it's really to get away from us crazy kids.

She's on a walk when all of this happens and so I tear off down the oil top road to find her so she can come home and tell him how wrong all of this is. I don't start crying until I see her. Then--- the waterworks begin. Sobbing. A hysterical, unintelligible explanation of my behavior flows from my lips.

And then she does an awful thing-- she says, "It'll be okay."

WHAT?? OKAY?? My life is over. The only Methodist football player I know has dumped me. Dumped me! I thought I was the best little monkey ever. (One last side note: my Mom tells the three of us that we are the best little monkeys she knows and every mom thinks her little monkeys are the best and that's why she doesn't think anybody else's monkeys are any good. And that's why I'll think my little monkeys are the best little monkeys...)

I explain to her that I am doomed. Cursed. The public school kids will never, ever talk to me again. And again, "It'll be okay."

Guess what? It was okay. We actually went out several times when I was 19 or 20. Who did he call when he needed a HOT who's-that-with-Ken date to Homecoming? Me. Yep. Being homeschooled had it's benefits. You were an Untouchable with out even trying. Everyone knew who you were and thought you were brilliant without you even opening your mouth ('cause when I opened my mouth the Southern drawl dropped my IQ by about 75 points). Best political move a girl could ever have made.

Good times, good times. He's married now. Another funny thing is that we made a pact to marry each other if neither one of us was married by the time we were 27. So... I'm currently taking resumes for the position of Man B. (I'm taking apps for Man A too, but that's another story.)

I'll end with a quote from Luanne Clatterback in Shag: The Movie

"I do not believe in practicing free love!"

Chronicles of Boyfriendia-Numero Cinco (Prelude to a Kiss)

"Made me sick to my stomach to be honest. To make matters worse, I started thinking that I'll probably have to endure a first kiss in the future (not necessarily the near...) and that made me even more nauseous. It's funny how my mind runs away without me."

I copied this quote out of an e-mail that a friend and I had been writing back and forth. At some point the Chronicles will end-- but not before the First Kiss Edition makes it's debut. To understand the event you must have the history.

*Prelude to a Kiss*
I was a child who, unlike Vanessa, wasn't afraid of boys-- they just simply didn't have much to offer me. Plus, they smelled (badly). I hate smelly people. And when they attempted to smell good... well, that's a road trip worthy discussion only. So, I didn't kiss boys on the playground. Boys were business partners in my quest for world domination. Contrary to popular belief-- not all little girls are concerned with pigtails and Barbie dolls.

So... kissing wasn't a trite thing to me. Kissing was serious business. So, I knew eventually I'd have to go through the whole kissing bit with someone. Alan decided to be that someone, much to my chagrin.

It's the classic high school set-up. ::cue sappy Barbara Streisand music::

Alan was a senior and I was his oh-so-hot freshman girlfriend. Alan drove a black Dodge, played on the golf team and let me wear his letterman jacket. Plus-- I was a H-O-T-T freshman. (If Shane can brag about his past sports achievement, surely I can boast about the fact that I was the hottest freshman in my class*!) Our church youth group sets off on a ski trip and EVERYONE on the trip finds out that I've been his girlfriend for 8 months and he hasn't kissed me. Why this was cause for concern... I dunno, but apparently you can't be cool in high school if you haven't been kissed by a boy.

The whole week he kept trying to sneak one on me. We built these ice tunnels... and he crawled behind me in them... I got away! Then, we were making snow angels and he peered over me with those googley eyes and I got up and skied away! But... on the way home from Colorado as I was sleeping peacefully... he layed one on me! HOW SICK IS THAT? I wasn't even awake to enjoy my first stinkin' kiss!!

Even though Alan was a lousy first kisser, he had redeeming qualities. He carried a pocket knife! He taught me to drive a stick and... he made my swing be----utiful! This too came to a bittersweet end, though.

Ladies-- when you think all is lost and there's no hope, think about how you probably didn't sleep through your first kiss and how Ms. Geri Halliwell so aptly described the role of liquid sunshine in the female world:

"...it's raining men!"

*homeschool ROCKS!

Chronicles of Boyfriendia-Numero Cuatro

Folks – sit back and relax, because you are getting a TWO ‘FER DEAL today. Yes, a two-for-the-price-of-one boyfriendia story today. I know you’ve all been clamoring for an update (namely Jasien) so I’ll cut to the chase.

Chris & JM

Chris was my fourth grade boyfriend and he started the short man fetish. Well… fetish is a bit of a strong term, but nonetheless – my better judgment was lost and I proceeded to have a boyfriend who was ::GASP:: not as tall as I was. I look back in horror because I was entirely too young to be the possessor of an ID bracelet which Chris deemed necessary for me to wear. (Oh—the public school days of yore.) I should have realized right then and there that the short man identity crisis was in full swing.

Here’s my reasoning: short men (actually men who are shorter than the women they date) are… how shall I say? – driven. A bit more dominating than your run-of-the-mill “taller than the women they date” man. And so in my quest for world domination I decided that Chris – would be my ticket to running the UN. I could ride on his coattails to power – oh, wait, his coattails drag the ground! How about I just walk beside him, eh? And so off we went to conquer the fourth grade. I don’t really recall why and where the separation of superpowers occurred. Maybe it was because I supported free trade and he didn’t. I do recall that our first “big fight” was over North Vietnam and the DMZ. Craziness.

Anyway – apparently I didn’t get enough short man because… ten years later… another one comes along. At this point on the timeline I’m still seeking world domination, but I’ve scaled down the operation to just a few, select women in my posse: Condoleezza Rice, Carly Fiorina, Madeline Albright etc.

We’re seeking to diversify and so we decide that it’s probably best for me to go with not only short – but Latin. (Keep in mind that I am a very white sister. Most notable white trash mishap: taking a camo swimsuit to LA – and I don’t mean Lower Alabama) Off I go to conquer the world with my new, short and now PC Latin boyfriend. I’ve always gone for dark and handsome but this was a new low.

JM was fun – but the “diversify” technique didn’t exactly work. For starters – he didn’t even know Spanish. Then, there was the whole issue of us not exactly liking each other. Yes – loving one another with the love of the Lord is one thing – the will to like someone is another. As you can probably forecast – things went sour and south simultaneously.

Until next time, kids. Remember ladies – in the words of Counting Crows…

It’s all a lot of oysters, with no pearls.