It's long, I know...It's really more for me anyways :)
After packing and cleaning and reorganizing today, I stumbled across the most random article of my past: a photo of Casey in his football jersey. His mom had let me borrow the picture (one of those look-really-intense-and-off-into-the-distance poses) so I could draw a portrait of him for Christmas or possibly one of those gift-giving, pressure-ridden holidays. Combined with a recent stint of drama with the opposite sex, this got me to thinking about all the past loves, crushes, and infatuations I've had over the years... So if you're not interested in reading about intense middle school dance-floor drama or tear-filled, failed relationships then stop. But for the people who might find this interesting or could get a laugh out of recognizing a few of these names, continue reading.
After maybe one year of being cute (oh Kindergarten, good times), I found myself with a gappy, buck-toothed smile and short boyish hair in first grade. And I was fiesty and "outgoing", which can be taken as being personable, determined, or just plain loud. Needless to say, by the time I moved to my new school at Mill Creek, I had established myself as the girl who liked to get dirty, play legos, and wear a looney tunes baseball hat. Sometimes I colored with my girlfriends and other times I'd play soccer with the dudes. Regardless I looked at boys the same way that I looked at girls. Except for Carson Kreig. On a scale of 1 to 10 Carson was ADORABLE. He had freckles, a cute bowl haircut, and an elfish laugh. Having always been one of the taller kids, I had no concept of how awkward it was to like the shortest kid in class; personally I took his shortness as cuteness (a flaw that would come back to haunt me). The fateful day came on Valentine's Day: Since elementary school forces you to give a Valentine to each class member (regardless of sex or possible embarassment), I had decided as a joke to write funny/obscene poems to the guys on their cards only because I didn't want to seem like a mushy girl who was obsessed with boys(*). I opened up my pack of Lion King Valentines (the movie had just come out and I had already seen it three times) and began the creative process. Remember how each pack came with two special oversized cards? Obviously one was reserved for Mrs. Johns but the second one I knew instantly who to give it to. Problem was, I couldn't think of a poem. I couldn't think of anything creative or disgusting to write on Carson's card. In fact I didn't even want to. Confused, I started thinking about my Valentines for the other guys and felt that by not writing anything bad, he would realize that I was massively crushing on him. Genius, Steph! (*)On a side note to that story, I wrote a really bad poem on Jotesh's card that he did not find amusing AT ALL. His parents ended up calling my house and I had to not only talk to them on the phone, but I had to give him a new Valentine two weeks later. In years to come, Jotesh and I would laugh about the horrible awkwardness.
After the ceremonial placement of the Valentines into the lovely homemade boxes, we all started ripping open our cards, measuring each other's awesomeness by who attached the fun-sized reeses to your Valentine. I could hear bits of laughter in the background from the guys; the infamous Peter Sadowski would later approach me to tell me how hilarious he found my poem. Finally, Carson walked over to me with his oversized card with Simba proclaiming him as "the King of ALL Valentines". Expecting him to fully appreciate my strategy of revealing my crush, I was shocked to see him look so upset. "I saw you wrote funny stuff on the other guys' cards. And I didn't get anything!" I had no idea how to explain my logic as he handed me back his Valentine. To my dismay, immediately following that episode Carson began what I consider a three year "fling" with my best friend and the prettiest girl in the class, Ms. Rebecca Dash. I took away three very important and very skewed lessons from that day: 1) Prettier girls will always get the boys 2) Boys like mean jokes and rude humor more than kind gestures 3) Because of my lack of looks, the only way I was going to get ahead was to joke around and make fun of any male around me. Now I see why middle school was such a success for me.
Fast forward to sixth grade: nothing major, but I did receive my first kiss. Taylor Brown was actually one of the few boys who seriously talked to me (and who wasn't constantly hitting on Rebecca) so when I discovered he was moving away at the end of the shcool year, I decided to tell him how much he meant to me. He returned the sentiment with a kiss on the lips. And I never saw him again...except when CoCo or Ann Thu pointed randomly pointed him out in the halls of Jackson. Weeeiiirrrd. Oh and Krystal Esquillo and I were OBSESSED with Brandon Gonzales. Good god that man was gorgeous! But sadly it's impossible to define it as anything other than pure stalking.
Then there was seventh grade and anyone who knew me knew my obsession for one Josh Citron. Why did I find him so attractive? I'd say the butt-chin or the PC term: Cleft Chin. Either way, I stared at him in Gym, wrote "I Heart JC" on my notes, and even wrote up a fake IM conversation about how I confessed my love for him and he reciprocated (I hope some of you remember that fantasy AIM chat...It was very VERY unhealthy to say the least). At the time, Keisha was always up in everyone's business and ended up giving me his email address, convincing me that revealing my crush for him via email would be most appropriate and well received. So I wrote him, something to the tune of "Hey, you probably don't know me but I kind of like you. Maybe we can say hi to each other some time?" And he replied back!!!! Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I wish I still had it; it was not too casual with just the right amount of concern for my feelings. I decided to start mustering up the courage to ask him to dance at the last dance of the year. However, out of stress or nerves or a bean burrito, I ended up with the worst stomach ache and had to leave school early that day. Good thing I did...I later discovered through Keisha what a joke he considered me. I even overheard him at a band concert descibing me as the jerk who always takes the good Baritone. Ouch.
The worst blow came in eigth grade. After a birthday party at Embassy Suites (which involved a lot of swimming and therefore topless boys), I became instantly and deeply attracted to Chris Fairbanks. I confided in the person sitting next to me at the time, Amy Brown. She totally agreed with me and encouraged me to persue it further...but obviously not too much further since she began dating him three days later. After a series of unfortunate circumstances (including the time where he "accidently" didn't invited me to his birthday party) I found that I still had feelings for him and decided that that was reason enough to tell him. It was the last day eigth grade, Chris was moving away, and I wanted to start the summer on a confident note. After the final bell rang, I found Chris standing by the idling school buses. I waved, he smiled, and ss I literally began to part my lips to say something, he sees someone past me and brushes me aside. I turn aroud just in time to see him hugging my OTHER best friend Lynette and kissing her good-bye on the lips. Ouch again. The knife that had been stabbed and twisted into my back so many times felt the worst right then. Maybe I should hang out with uglier friends...or maybe I should just stop trying all together!
In a later post, I'll take you through the equally confusing but less painful of my subsequent relationships, made possible by the removal of my braces, boobs, and Nels Mattson.
After maybe one year of being cute (oh Kindergarten, good times), I found myself with a gappy, buck-toothed smile and short boyish hair in first grade. And I was fiesty and "outgoing", which can be taken as being personable, determined, or just plain loud. Needless to say, by the time I moved to my new school at Mill Creek, I had established myself as the girl who liked to get dirty, play legos, and wear a looney tunes baseball hat. Sometimes I colored with my girlfriends and other times I'd play soccer with the dudes. Regardless I looked at boys the same way that I looked at girls. Except for Carson Kreig. On a scale of 1 to 10 Carson was ADORABLE. He had freckles, a cute bowl haircut, and an elfish laugh. Having always been one of the taller kids, I had no concept of how awkward it was to like the shortest kid in class; personally I took his shortness as cuteness (a flaw that would come back to haunt me). The fateful day came on Valentine's Day: Since elementary school forces you to give a Valentine to each class member (regardless of sex or possible embarassment), I had decided as a joke to write funny/obscene poems to the guys on their cards only because I didn't want to seem like a mushy girl who was obsessed with boys(*). I opened up my pack of Lion King Valentines (the movie had just come out and I had already seen it three times) and began the creative process. Remember how each pack came with two special oversized cards? Obviously one was reserved for Mrs. Johns but the second one I knew instantly who to give it to. Problem was, I couldn't think of a poem. I couldn't think of anything creative or disgusting to write on Carson's card. In fact I didn't even want to. Confused, I started thinking about my Valentines for the other guys and felt that by not writing anything bad, he would realize that I was massively crushing on him. Genius, Steph! (*)On a side note to that story, I wrote a really bad poem on Jotesh's card that he did not find amusing AT ALL. His parents ended up calling my house and I had to not only talk to them on the phone, but I had to give him a new Valentine two weeks later. In years to come, Jotesh and I would laugh about the horrible awkwardness.
After the ceremonial placement of the Valentines into the lovely homemade boxes, we all started ripping open our cards, measuring each other's awesomeness by who attached the fun-sized reeses to your Valentine. I could hear bits of laughter in the background from the guys; the infamous Peter Sadowski would later approach me to tell me how hilarious he found my poem. Finally, Carson walked over to me with his oversized card with Simba proclaiming him as "the King of ALL Valentines". Expecting him to fully appreciate my strategy of revealing my crush, I was shocked to see him look so upset. "I saw you wrote funny stuff on the other guys' cards. And I didn't get anything!" I had no idea how to explain my logic as he handed me back his Valentine. To my dismay, immediately following that episode Carson began what I consider a three year "fling" with my best friend and the prettiest girl in the class, Ms. Rebecca Dash. I took away three very important and very skewed lessons from that day: 1) Prettier girls will always get the boys 2) Boys like mean jokes and rude humor more than kind gestures 3) Because of my lack of looks, the only way I was going to get ahead was to joke around and make fun of any male around me. Now I see why middle school was such a success for me.
Fast forward to sixth grade: nothing major, but I did receive my first kiss. Taylor Brown was actually one of the few boys who seriously talked to me (and who wasn't constantly hitting on Rebecca) so when I discovered he was moving away at the end of the shcool year, I decided to tell him how much he meant to me. He returned the sentiment with a kiss on the lips. And I never saw him again...except when CoCo or Ann Thu pointed randomly pointed him out in the halls of Jackson. Weeeiiirrrd. Oh and Krystal Esquillo and I were OBSESSED with Brandon Gonzales. Good god that man was gorgeous! But sadly it's impossible to define it as anything other than pure stalking.
Then there was seventh grade and anyone who knew me knew my obsession for one Josh Citron. Why did I find him so attractive? I'd say the butt-chin or the PC term: Cleft Chin. Either way, I stared at him in Gym, wrote "I Heart JC" on my notes, and even wrote up a fake IM conversation about how I confessed my love for him and he reciprocated (I hope some of you remember that fantasy AIM chat...It was very VERY unhealthy to say the least). At the time, Keisha was always up in everyone's business and ended up giving me his email address, convincing me that revealing my crush for him via email would be most appropriate and well received. So I wrote him, something to the tune of "Hey, you probably don't know me but I kind of like you. Maybe we can say hi to each other some time?" And he replied back!!!! Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I wish I still had it; it was not too casual with just the right amount of concern for my feelings. I decided to start mustering up the courage to ask him to dance at the last dance of the year. However, out of stress or nerves or a bean burrito, I ended up with the worst stomach ache and had to leave school early that day. Good thing I did...I later discovered through Keisha what a joke he considered me. I even overheard him at a band concert descibing me as the jerk who always takes the good Baritone. Ouch.
The worst blow came in eigth grade. After a birthday party at Embassy Suites (which involved a lot of swimming and therefore topless boys), I became instantly and deeply attracted to Chris Fairbanks. I confided in the person sitting next to me at the time, Amy Brown. She totally agreed with me and encouraged me to persue it further...but obviously not too much further since she began dating him three days later. After a series of unfortunate circumstances (including the time where he "accidently" didn't invited me to his birthday party) I found that I still had feelings for him and decided that that was reason enough to tell him. It was the last day eigth grade, Chris was moving away, and I wanted to start the summer on a confident note. After the final bell rang, I found Chris standing by the idling school buses. I waved, he smiled, and ss I literally began to part my lips to say something, he sees someone past me and brushes me aside. I turn aroud just in time to see him hugging my OTHER best friend Lynette and kissing her good-bye on the lips. Ouch again. The knife that had been stabbed and twisted into my back so many times felt the worst right then. Maybe I should hang out with uglier friends...or maybe I should just stop trying all together!
In a later post, I'll take you through the equally confusing but less painful of my subsequent relationships, made possible by the removal of my braces, boobs, and Nels Mattson.