sluttin around for 17 years

Today is my fucking anniversary. Literally. I became a woman Thursday, November 25, 1993. Oh wait. Don't we become women when we start to bleed? That was March 6, 1993. Yes I was a late bloomer. Quick to get in the sack though.

This is the boy whose virginity I scammed ....

Yes, that is lip gloss. And yes, those are New Kids on the Block earrings. He let me dress him up like that mainly to deceive my mom in to believing he was a homo so she'd let us hang out in my room with the door shut. It worked. I think to this day, she believed he was gay. WAS. He has two kids now.

He was my first love. And even though I was whoring around by age 15, I'm lucky that I can (a) remember his name and (b) remember it as something special, with someone I don't regret. Well, as special as it can get without actually finishing. Ahhh, pointless teenage sex. We never dated in the four years we hungout, but there was always something stirring between us. And it used to piss his girlfriends the fuck off. These weren't make-believe feelings caused by bullshit he was feeding me so I'd show him my boobies. We slow-danced in my bedroom with tears in our eyes because he was moving away. Okay, maybe there were no tears, but it was real dammit. We're still waiting for the right time to get together for the real deal as a matter of fact. Our chances at a long happy life together were cut down considerably though when he moved across the country, got married, and had kids. Years will go by without a word, then we drop back into a routine of phone calls, e-mails, and it's like nothing's changed. A lot has of course ... He's traded his hyper-colour t-shirts in for army fatigues. And his chevy nova in for an airplane. And I've gone from laying on my back for three minutes to crazy sex maniac that demands at least an hour. That might be a stretch, but certainly, things have changed. 

And for your listening pleasure, the song that I repeatedly cried to after My First Love moved away ....