I'm stealing a meme, again, and again I'm stealing it from acumamkiki.
Who was your first love? My first love was this jerk off named Jamie from my 2nd grade class. He was the most athletic boy of our age group which I dug, but he was kinda mean. He had a blond bowl cut, shiny black eyes and dimples for days. The girls in our second grade class were divided by only this: Whether they crushed on Jamie or whether they crushed on his best friend Claude. Claude was a brown-skinned French kid who was much nicer than Jamie. Claude had wildly curly hair and gap between his front teeth and also dimples forever. I'm so much more a Claude girl now.
Who was your first kiss and when? My first french kiss was with a boy named Clay in 7th grade at a party I threw at my house. A "party at my house" is loosely said and was laughable considering my mother and I lived in a 500 sq foot guesthouse where the storage closet was my bedroom. Clay gave me a few verbal instructions and then I held my breath and did what he had said. Clay could've been teaching me how to swing a baseball bat. Once we kissed, wetly, he looked at me like, "See? Not so bad." And I thought, little weird, but ok and we got back to the party though I was kind of exhilerated having tried something new. Clay and I went steady for a ground-breaking 3 weeks. I think. He was sweet and really cute and he has a great full name. I won't give you his full name because I think he's famous in his field now and I think he reads this blog as does his wife, Susan. We all knew each other through jr. high and high school. Hi Clay. Hi Susan.
Who was your first prom date? I went to my junior high "prom" with the Nelson Twins and a boy named JR who I secretly crushed on throughout all of my school years after elementary. I liked him so much as a person, that I didn't know how to break into the romance territory. I think he felt the same. But we yucked it up at our jr. hi prom, the Nelson girls as our buffer. I wore a 1950's yellow chiffon prom dress with mad itchy netting that I bought at the local thrift shop.
I didn't go to my high school prom because I had just started seeing that Seventh Day Adventist basketball player. The prom fell on the sabbath. Betsy and I decided that instead of going to the prom we'd go on a night horse ride across the Santa Monica Mountains into Hollywood. It was peaceful and beautiful and the city lights lined our route, but it also felt oddly lonely. I still want to have a prom to make up for that. Maybe for my 40th birthday next year.
Who was your first roommate? My first roommates were a married couple, Kath and Paul. They owned the athletic-apparel store that I worked at throughout high school. During my senior year, I rented a room from them.
What was your first job? When I was eight years old, I walked a neighbor's Yorkshire Terrier three times a week before I went to school. She worked for a local TV production company and my Christmas bonus was an autographed photo of Scott Baio. HELL YES!
What was your first car? A 1970 VW 411, a model that I had not seen before my ownership nor have I seen since. My mother had a British friend looking to unload the car which he had affectionately named Wolvie. Wolvie was primer grey and ran well except for a little issue where the battery gave out regularly. The battery was located under the driver's seat and I jumped it so often that the bolts to hold the seat down eventually were lost. I couldn't gun the gas or my seat would flip back like a trash lid opening, my head lying on the back seat. I bought Wolvie for $400 at age 16 -- my mother paid for half -- and I loved that car a lot.
When did you go to your first funeral? The first funeral that I vividly remember was for my grandmother, Mama, when I was fifteen.
How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown? At nineteen I packed up my sky blue ford escort with a head gasket that was ready to explode, and chugged it to Berkeley so I could pretend I went to the university with Betsy. The gasket did blow the minute I arrived in Berkeley and the sky-blue escort stayed in that same parking spot for a year until I had enough money to fix it.
Who was your first grade teacher? We lived in England at the time and I don't remember my teacher's name. Mid-year I was yanked from first grade and home schooled through second as my mother fled from a boyfriend.
When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? Hey, I was with the Nelson Twins again. I was sleeping over at their house, I think we were in 9th grade, and we snuck out of a second story window in the middle of the night to T.P. Erica Z's house. One of the twins got caught by Mr. Z.
Who was the first person to send you flowers? The first person that sent me flowers was this 19 year old Saudi Arabian prince named Amir who looked like he was 35. I was also 19 and I was dating a personal trainer that worked out Amir's girlfriend, a zaftig blond that had pouchy cheekbones and deeply set peeble eyes. Amir invited my PT boyfriend over for a Christmas party at his apartment, an 8,000 square foot place in Westwood with its own elevator. PT brought me. At the party Amir flirted so hard with me, I would grab PT's arm and shrug incessantly. This did not phase nor deter Amir. Amir told PT and me to come back to his apartment the next day around noon, and when we showed up he whisked us and a few others to Las Vegas in a private jet. Amir's girlfriend increasingly got more pissed because Amir kept trying to have these private conversations with me that were solicitations to be his side-girl. "Do you want to learn French? I'll take you to Paris to learn." My PT boyfriend was gorgeous, but people, he was not the brightest thing in the world. He caught on to none of Amir's antics. He was having a great time in Vegas. Amir gave me$200.00 in chips to play blackjack and when I turned that into $250, I returned all the chips to Amir and said, "Thank you. That was fun." He refused to take them back. I had scored grocery money for two months! By the end of the 12-hour trip to Vegas, Amir's girlfriend had fired off many nasty remarks. Can't say I blame her though she didn't have the guts to fire them at Amir. The next day at work, I received a five foot tall bouquet of some exotic arrangement that was probably extinct or uprooted from an elusive jungle and helicoptered in. The note apologized for his girl's remarks and pretty much said, So, do you want to date the broke and dumb PT or do you want to date me and get treated like a queen? He called later to follow up and I said, "I don't whore for nobody," which shocked the shit out of him because Amir usually got what Amir wanted. Funk that.
Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid? I've never been a bridesmaid. Always the bride.
When is the first time you got drunk? I didn't really get drunk until my 21st birthday. I'm still not much of a drinker, but on my 21st bday my roommate and I went to a tiny salsa club in Venice called Miami Spice and we both drank two Havana Rockets each which were delicious and highly flammable. We danced with every dude in the joint, and we ended the night in a grocery store buying a dozen thumbprint cookies. We sat on the curb outside our apartment scarfing cookies and howl-laughing so loudly that it echoed off the alleys and bungalow houses for blocks.
What was the first thing you did this morning? Both girls woke early this morning and they crawled into my bed and flanked my sides in a mad cuddle. The pugs were intertwined at our feet; Husband was in the shower. And for a few minutes we just laid there, eyes open, sun rising and basked in touch.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
That was a dream meme. Everything so California...
What she said. I'm ganking this one, though I think my answers are going to be more pedestrian. Or maybe not. But I can tell you this, there are no Saudi princes involved.
Wow, that was so cool it left me breathless. A Saudi prince, Madness?!
Yea, that's how I roll . . .
Naw, the prince thing was a total fluke, a chance meeting with a greedy-guts, echo-inflated, opressive, money-tossin' pimp of a prince. The broke, earnest PT was more my notion of romantic no matter how much of a ding dong he was.
Madness, if I had had any 7th grade game at all I would have beat Prince Boy to the punch and sent you flowers first. I've told Susan that same story, except I made my self out to be much cooler...
there's nothing i like more than the morning in bed with my girl.
this meme is terrific ~ glad you played!
i love that the cali girls all had VW something or other for their first car. i loved my yellow beetle! how cool your version was.
HAHAHAHA, Clay you were muy suave for 7th grade.
oh my god, i can totally picture sweet, cute, clay, saying, "see, that wasn't so bad, eh?" hi clay!!! peter distefano (guitarist for porno for pyros) taught me how to kiss!! i remember the saudi prince stories too. and of course, how fun it was to have you living in my living room in berkeley!
and the anti-prom night!!!
memories......
Post a Comment