Scotland in the Spring

My parents always told me they'd send me to Scotland. I was really into Scottish history when I was in high school. I had posters of Scotland on my wall, and my favorite Christmas presents were those big picture books of the rolling hills of Scot--I wasn't a geek, okay? I was just enthusiastic. That's what my mother told me. Enthusiastic.

So then when I couldn't go to college, my folks said, don't worry, hun, you'll go to Scotland instead. Great, I thought, a total win on that one. Of course, I haven't actually gone yet. But I will. We were talking about maybe next spring. Nate could go with me, and we'd do one of those tours... Scotland in the spring sounds nice.

Okay this--and pardon my rabbit trail, but spring always seems so contrary to me... and I mean that in the best possible way. It refuses to operate in the accepted pattern: when something dies, we think, it's supposed to stay dead. But the year, every year, against all odds, forces its way back into the land of the living to give the world another shot. Stupid? Or just stubborn? I admire its tenacity, I admit (or her tenacity--I'm pretty sure Spring is too pretty to be a dude), but I think she also scares me a little. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Spring.

Burgundy Weddings

Y'know, Emily just got married last year. Not to her prom date--or her first college boyfriend, incidentally. It was actually to her biology TA. (Heheheh...biology...heheheh...) I'd call her a slut if I hadn't met the guy--Kyle. Oy. I'd have failed the class too, with a teacher like that. Can't blame the girl a wit. I wasn't able to make it, but they swung by my place the week before the wedding. They seemed disgustingly happy, so Emily must've worked her cue reading skills out eventually. And I'm really happy for her. Disgusted, but happy.

I only ever went to one wedding--a friend of my brother Nate's. He took me as his date, which would have been much sweeter if he'd had other options. It was fun, though. I helped him pick out a tie; he helped me pick out a dress--apparently black is frowned upon for weddings. Shame. We found a pretty nice burgundy number, though--I was up to a 5.2 by this point, which helped. I tried to twist his arm into wearing a burgundy tie, but I think he was already regretting asking me to go, so I didn't push the point too hard.

It was an indoor wedding, which was good, 'cause it poured all day. I've never really understood why someone would even risk planning a wedding outside--talk about stress. I mean, seriously, isn't there enough on your mind?! My wedding plans always included a castle in Scotland, though, so perhaps I'm not one to talk about crazy wedding locations.

First Kiss Clarification

I used to think that a girl always knew when a boy wanted to kiss her--that there was an intuition that came with age about such things--so I'd always blame the girl if she missed the moment in a book...or movie...or when I was spying on people in the park. But then Emily told me about her first college boyfriend...maybe I shouldn't use Em as my measuring rod for relationships, but I don't have a lot of input here. Unless you want me to go off of my parents, which just strikes me as a terrible idea.

Anyway, it turns out that Em couldn't read this guy, and ended up going in for the kiss when he was trying to blow his nose. Which is just gross. So maybe Teddy wasn't thinking about kissing me, maybe he just had a sinus infection, maybe I'm a pathetic loser who will ultimately die alone...but that's the last time you'll hear me admit it.

First Kiss

I never was kissed. In high school, I was the resident 1.4, and after...my social life never really picked up. All the cute boys went to college, and I...didn't. No--that's not true. Chad didn't go to college. Chad was gorgeous. He's Nina's older brother. He used to come visit when we got a room together after high school. And after she...left, he still came to visit me. Which was sweet. He didn't have to...he was always so sad...but very nice. He'd sit and talk with me for a half hour every Thursday afternoon for 6 months and 3 weeks. Then he stopped coming. He never kissed me, though. I never expected him to.

Teddy almost kissed me once. Teddy was...Teddy was sweet. Teddy was sad. He was new--he was young. He always came to visit smiling, but always left about to cry. I swear it wasn't because I was a jerk. Well, I half-swear. Tact has never been my strong point. Once my parents were visiting when he stopped by, and when he got all sad, they asked him to leave--but I told him to stay. (I love being an adult.) I liked that he cried.

My parents cried a lot, too, but that was different. My mom would get all clingy and my dad would shut himself in the garage with his beer. ...he never gave me one, which I just found insulting--I could've commiserated, I could've been that daughter. Instead I listened while they fought in the hallway.

Once Teddy came while they were fighting--they must've been so focused on each other that they didn't see him or they never would've let him come in alone. But they didn't, and he did, and he came in and sat by my bed, and looked at me--this was when he almost kissed me--and...it took a while for him to speak, 'cause I think what he wanted to do was cry, but he took my hand and asked if he could turn on the TV. To drown out the sound of my parents fighting. I mean, he didn't say that, but that's what he meant. That and that he wanted to kiss me.

Junior-Senior Prom

I was on the tech committee for the prom--every year since freshman. I was the AV geek in the back--I told you: buttons and wires! But not that year. Not the year I actually had a date. Nina didn't have a date either. We sat in a room together and swapped "I have no life" anecdotes. She says she won, but she's wrong. I totally won. ...yay me...

Em had a date, which she rubbed in my face from the start. Of course Em had the whole blonde hair, blue eyes thing goin' on. Which she never failed to remind me "everyone says is the prettiest." She was really pretty in her pink and white gown--all...princessy and sparkly. Her date was kinda cute, too. I only met him once, he picked Em up after a class we had together a few weeks before the dance. His folks had money, and he had the most amazing backpack...

Neen and I were on diets, so prom night we made a list of our favorite ice creams and then spent an hour imagining eating them. Best Rocky Road I ever ate.

You know, Hank actually smiled when I told him I couldn't go. I think he went with Karly Fisher--a 3.9. The jerk totally traded up. Emily reminded me of this the night before. She and her date were supposed to double with me and Hank. They still went with Hank and Karly. Em called after and said it was the best night of her life. Of course, she'd just had her first kiss, so maybe I shouldn't take it too personally.

That Little Black Dress Part 2

When I was 13, I visited this tiny baby in the hospital. My mom and dad were talking with her parents, and I'm looking at this--I mean, I could hold her in one hand--this tiny baby girl. I'm looking at her through the glass, and I'm thinking: This is it. Her life will be spent the size of my favorite doll, all wired up, and in a plastic box. Her parents couldn't even hold her. It makes my black dress story kinda pathetic, I think. Maybe. I did really like that dress, though.

I almost wore it once. I was 17 and--okay, first off, I don't know if you'd find me particularly attractive now--I mean--I don't know your type or anything, and it's not like I put on makeup this morning--but whatever I am to you now--let's say a 7--divide that into 5ths. That was me at 17. A 1.4. (I've had this conversation a lot--I've done the math.) Okay, so I was a 1.4 in a sea of 8s and 9s (I thought in high school, girls were supposed to be awkward), but this one boy, Hank (he should probably take his parents to court over that name), he was also kinda awkward and, well, maybe a 2.6. But he asked me to the Junior-Senior prom, and I was beside myself. And while all my friends were busy shopping for new dresses, I already knew what I was wearing (and I knew this because there was no way in hell my parents could afford a new dress). So I put my beautiful dress on my chubby 1.4 body and twirled in the mirror, dreaming of dancing under colored lights to crappy boy bands with Mr. 2.6. And it's a good thing I did, 'cause that was close as I got to my Junior-Senior prom.

That Little Black Dress

In high school, clothes were my enemy--nothing fit, I hated how I looked in everything and my parents had...other bills to pay, so my school wardrobe every year came from Goodwill. Or The Salvation Army. And once I got a dress from a consignment shop that had me dancing in my seat on the bus until Rocky McGreeves, who sat behind me, smacked me on the head and called me a retard. But mostly my clothes came from Goodwill. Once Mimi Young saw me wearing her old Nirvana T-shirt. She stood on the table in the lunch room and announced it to the whole school. I'm pretty sure I actually died of shame that day.

Yeah, clothes and I--I mean, my weight was in a continual state of flux, so nothing ever actually fit, but there was this one dress: a little black dress that--I could've gained 50 lbs and it still would've looked fabulous. (And I know because I did.) Nina was so jealous...Emily really never wore black, she was more of a wear-the-entire-rainbow-at-once kind of girl. But deep, deep down, I know she wanted it, too. She'd come over some days after school, and we'd dress up and pretend we were going to the prom. She told me black was a stupid color to wear to the prom, but I didn't care.

I loved that dress. I'd put it on at night and twirl in front of the mirror. I never got to wear it out though...