Monday Memories 3.28.06

When I was 14 and a freshman in high school, I went to the movies one night with my girlfriends. While I was there I met a junior from another high school named Jeff Burgess (yeah, I'm naming names. In case anyone knows him, feel free to kick his ass). It was 'love at first sight!' He was older, sooo good looking, charming, and seemed to like me. You have to understand that I was very much the ugly duckling when I was younger. I was not a pretty girl in high school. I never got asked out on dates or to dances, and I was very insecure and shy. I know, I know...Those of you who know me personally are thinking there's no way I was ever shy. But I was. Painfully shy and insecure.
Anyway, I gave Jeff my phone number and following that night we started talking on the phone every night. I really liked him and he seemed to like me too. It was the end of May and he asked me to his high school's prom. For a little ugly duckling like me, this was a dream come true! I was one of those girls who had every issue of Teen magazine and tried to copy the hairstyles and make-up tips. I so badly wanted to be liked, and now I thought I was, and by a junior!! I was in heaven! Jeff called to say that he talked his mom into getting us a limo and he made reservations at a nice restaurant. I told all of my friends (most of whom had already met him the same night at the movies), and they could not believe my good luck to be asked to the prom by this boy! My mom took me shopping for a dress, shoes, and all the accessories and I could not wait! The night of the prom, it must have taken me five hours to get ready, three of those spent on my hair. And then I waited for Jeff to pick me up.
And waited.
And waited.
I could tell by the look on my mom's face that she had already realized what I was not yet willing to accept. I had been stood up for a prom. He never even called.
I finally gave up, took off my dress and put my robe on, trying to be brave about it and not cry. My sister and I both worked at the nearby movie theater at the time and my sister was working that night. My mom called my sister Jennifer at work without me knowing it and my sister sent one of her friends from work to pick me up and bring me to the movies and hang out with her while she was working. When I got there, she was behind the concession stand selling popcorn and she handed me something over the counter. It was a box from Hubbub (a very cool store in the mall) and inside was a little purple top - just a little present to cheer me up. She was only 15 years old, yet so sweet and sensitive to her little sister's feelings. Love between sisters is stronger than anything else on earth and my sister embodies that.

Good looking junior or not, Jeff Burgess turned out to be a major loser. Something really random must have triggered this memory for me, because I haven't thought of it in at least a decade. But my sister, now that's another story. She took what could have been a humiliating and devastating situation and made me feel loved and secure. She still does to this day.

Text Messages From Hell...

I am not a texter. Never have been. Don't think I ever will be. Not even if I had one of those cool phones with a keyboard built in like my daughters. I don't mind receiving text messages. In fact, most of the time the funny ones make me laugh. But don't expect me to return it. I might even forward the occasional funny text. Recently my friend received a text that said, "Hey, the Irvine police just found a naked body with bad teeth and a really small penis. Just making sure you're okay. Call me." Now that's funny. I forwarded that one to several of my male friends. (By the way, John, that was a particularly funny text about Mary Tyler Moore this morning! :)
When my friends text me a funny story or my daughters text me to say they'll be home at 5 PM, okay. But don't text me and say, "Whatcha doing?" No. I'm not answering. You've already dialed my number, just hit SEND!!! Call me and have a conversation, damn it!
So what is prompting this tirade on texting? There's this young man named Mike. I met Mike through a mutual friend and we've all had drinks together several times. Mike's a very nice guy who unfortunately took quite a liking to me in spite of the fact that I'm 10 years older than him. 10 YEARS! It's not gonna happen! But Mike gets my number from my friend and has been texting me for awhile now. I've said multiple times that there's no way I'm going out with him, but I have seen him since then with our friends. I think he's counting on wearing me down, but I can't go there (in spite of what you may have read about me here). Anyway, he texts me continually even though I've told him I don't like to text and I probably won't respond. He continues to text with questions that require a response and I just end up looking rude when I don't respond. He also keeps asking if I want to get together, just for coffee or something. If we were friends that would be fine, but that's not his intention. Here is how the texting went this morning...

Mike: "Good morning cutie" (Yeah. He's in diapers and calling me cutie.)
Steph: "Hey."
Mike: "Want to get coffee this morning?"
Steph: "No, I can't. I'm already at work and I'm swamped."
Mike: "I get the feeling you're not interested. Am I wrong?"
Steph: "MIKE! I'm sorry, I can't have a conversation by texting. It drives me crazy and it's so one-dimensional. Call me later if you want to have a real conversation."

Of course, that whole last text WAS a conversation - the kind that drive me insane!! I'm sure I won't be hearing from Young Mike anymore, so at least I won't have to explain again why I can't date a man in his 20's.

Am I over-reacting? Does this drive anyone else crazy? Am I just really old?

**By the way.....Tune into American Idol tonight to see none other than the legendary BARRY MANILOW sing live from Las Vegas!!!! :)
Whoo-Hoo!!

Monday Memories...3.13.06

When my littlest girl was 3 1/2, she swam with water wings. She's such a stud now that it's hard to imagine how she ever needed assistance, but she was pretty cute in her little Shamu wings. She would even go into the deep end at 3 years old.
If you know her, you know what a thrill seeker she is. I'm in total awe of her, seriously. She is now 11 years old, and a total stud. She can do everything she wants. Everything. And she does it with confidence.
Back to the water wings...One day we were swimming in a community pool. A friend of mine named Robert and I were in the shallow end just sort of cooling off while the girls were swimming around. Julianne (my little one) was in about three feet of water (well above her head), and asked if she could take off the water wings. I said okay, as long as she stayed up against the wall - you know how little kids who can't touch grip the wall as though their lives depend on it? Well, there she was - gripping the wall with no water wings. She had taken them off and thrown them on the concrete on the side of the pool. So as Robert and I stood watching her, all of a sudden she pushed off the wall, aiming for the stairs twenty feet a way. Robert and I lunged at her, I swear it was in slow motion, as we yelled, "Nini!!!!!!!" (Her nickname), the whole time thinking were going to pull a drowning child out of the pool. This little girl who couldn't swim without water wings a day before, all of a sudden broke out in the Little Mermaid like swimming stroke, with her arms by her side, her face under water, and her feet kicking furiously, until she made it to the stairs. When Robert and I realized that she knew what she was doing, we backed off and let her swim. She stood up on the stairs, turned and looked over her shoulder at us with the strongest look of self-satisfaction, mixed with a little bit of awe and a lot of surprise. So cute!! By then the whole crowd around the pool noticed what happened and were cheering her on!
We spent the next hour practicing her new found swimming skills with her - with the pool crowd continuing to cheer her on. We stood 10-15 feet away from the wall while she pushed off of us and mastered her skills. After about an hour, she got tired of swimming and decided to get out. She hiked herself up on the wall and out of the pool, passing the water wings on the concrete next to her. She turned and looked over shoulder, and then my little three-year-old proudly yelled, "FWO DOS WATTA WINGS AWAY!!!!"

Life Lesson #529

 

Never give a drunk girl cocktail umbrellas.

(Just a brief synopsis of my recent trip to the Bahamas)