Showing posts with label sign my yearbook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sign my yearbook. Show all posts

Thursday, October 30, 2008

I won't lie: I was such a good kisser I sometimes got free Brie




So UnMom told me I must have been a tortured teenager and that’s why she tagged me with the “seven things” teenager edition. Pimples and Golden Anniversary and boys? This is so much more fun than pink slip prattle.

Here we go. Ahem.

1. When I was a sophomore, my first real boyfriend tried to impress me by pretending to be a flame thrower— with a ticky torch. He burned his face and had to be rushed to the ER. When I went to see him he said, “Look away, I’m hideous!” I still laugh when I think about that.

2. I was a cashier at Stop and Shop, and I made out with way too many guys from Dairy.

3. When I was 17 I took someone’s virginity, and I was terribly mean to him afterward.

4. I totally deserved a better sex talk than the one I got. My dad said, “There’s sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Don’t do drugs.” (See #2 and #3.)

5. The person I fought with the most (she once left me on the side of the road) was my Maid of Honor three years ago, and I love her to death.

6. I was in the French Honor Society. I also played the clarinet and the bassoon in band. Hel-lo.

7. I hated my senior prom date. His name was Walt, he had thinning hair, and he popped his zits in the rearview mirror. (No, he wasn’t someone’s cousin; he was a friend of my best friend and it was either him or Ethan from band.)

Ah, high school.

So now I get to tag a bunch of other people, except I'm going to change the meme, because I like to copy UnMom. I still want to know 7 things about these people, but I want to know 7 things about them that very first month they were a new mom. Because I was a schizoid freak and I'd like to know that I wasn't the only woman who hucked the breast pump at her husband and then cackled when he cried.

Mwahahahaaha.

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