Feels Like The First Time
First of all I would like to send a big "Fuck You" out to the 10-year old brat who spoiled the ending of the Half-Blood Prince for me. You're a jerk and I hope you get crippling acne in your teenaged years.
Seriously people. Would it kill you to let me experience this stuff for myself? Chalk up yet another "mystery" and "surprise" that is significantly watered down because of outside influences.
Aside from spending time at Hogwart's, I've been keeping myself busy in the pursuit of something like romance. I wouldn't really say I've been wildly successful though, and I'm not quite sure what the heck is goin on
. There may be some light at the end of the tunnel but it's been a confusing couple of months.
Rather than go into a detailed account of all this current stuff I figured we could take a look back at my very first girlfriend.
Those who know me remember her as Sara. But even those who know me well, probably don't realize that Sara was (technically) not my first girlfriend.
I don't actually remember the name of my first girlfriend...Although I suspect it was "Jenny" (Though that could have to do with the aforementioned time spent reading J.K. Rowling). Yea...We'll call her Jenny.
I think I was about 12 (13? 18?) years old at the time. I was playing in the lot behind my house when this girl and her friend approached me. We struck up a conversation which somehow quickly evolved into a series of tests and challenges that I was forced to perform in. I don't remember them being very difficult -- Crawling through dirt and jumping over various obstacles. Little did I know that this would be metaphorical of dating for the rest of my life.
Eventually I had passed enough tests to demonstrated a satisfactory ability to traverse an empty lot. The result of all this was that I was now officially Jenny's boyfriend. I started to say something about not realizing that was going to be the result of all my efforts...but before I could really protest I was being threatened by Jenny's friend who out-weighed me be about 50 pounds.
So I did what any other 12-year old playa would do. I refused to return Jenny's phone calls, and hid when she came to knock on my door over the next few days.
I'm not too sure how long this first relationship technically lasted. If I had to venture a guess I would say 15 or 20 minutes. Though when I think about it, it may not have officially ended until I watched Jenny flip me the bird through the peep-hole of my front door.
Those were happy times.
Labels: girls, memories, pop and/or culture