i blame it on her.yes she is a vision (in pink), but i inherited this disease completely and utterly and unmistakably from her. she's long since overcome it with sweeping perfection; my mom sort of lives her life in a gliding serenity and has for many a year. she could be meeting anyone from keith richards to ghandi and would maintain poise and dignity. always dignity. i have yet to see the other side of the mountain of
mom tells the story of a time in jr. high when a nice young fellow had nursed a crush on her, and she had dismissed his affections faster than you can say "simon and garfunkle". later on she felt regretful, and wishful for a return to "the way they were." one day after school she walked along the vacated school hallway and saw young fellow perusing the scrumptious options of the vending machine. mom saw an opportunity to rekindle what she'd once shrugged off without a care. quickly formulating something clever and endearing, what ended up coming out of her mouth as she reached his earshot was, "Porking up???" end scene.
fast forward to the year 1998. mom no longer vocally biffs, she in fact has charmed everyone she's met for years, including her 15.75 year old daughter (moi). i was knee deep in a crush on billy nelson. being a student of another high school (our rival high school, no less!) gave him a hefty dose of mystery, as well as danger (you try mosing over to the woodbridge high school side wearing blue and green on football game nights! death on a stick!) we'd placed sweaty hands on each other for a few slow songs at irvine stake dances, we were getting to be chatty, all was going well. crowning glory moment: he came to MY, repeat MY sweet 16 party and rocked and rolled all night! when the neighbors kicked us crazy mormon delinquents out, we beelined over to 7-11 for 98 ounce slurpees and then zipped over to the bollard's ill-supervised pool for ensured ability to keep on rockin. since i had the metabolism of a bunny rabbit back in them days i was actually right as rain being in my bathing suit with slurpee soaked red teeth, lips, and tongue. the flirting was turning professional. i was thinking about writing a book about it. you could practically be zapped by giggle gamma rays if you passed in between billay and i. then, as my momma done taught me, the time came to play hard to get and get my flirt on with some different dudes. a bit later when 'twas nearing the stroke of midnight, when we all know Who goes to bed, we began to swaddle towels round about and make for the pool gate.
billy was standing by the edge of the pool. i had to make one lasting impression for the night, because, holy moly! i was now 16, i knew it, he knew it, and i would be needing him to ask me on many dates. dates and dates and dates.
in all my wet hair and towel glory, i strutted what my mama gave me on over, drafting and concocting in my noggin what verbal gems i would wow him with. i meant, truly meant, to say, "hey, are you going to take a dip?"
what came out was, "hey, are you going to take a dump?"
for the record, he did ask me on my 2nd official date a week or 2 later, and then a year later i went to his senior prom at the opposing high school, so apparently the slurpee hang over he endured the next morning erased my blooper from his memory bank.
and it seems the lapse of almost 10 years has done nothing to cure me. i still struggle. this morning in the hallway i was passing a bidness superior who shares my love for coldplay tunes and out tumbled, "hey, new album coldplay came last night."
bah. i'm starting up TTA for anyone else who wants to get a sponser and start coming to meetings.