I don't know how many of you have noticed. I am never sure how it looks to other people or if people even pay attention. I have something on my face. Well, a few things on my face. I have many moles, many many moles. ("MANY, MANY POGS!!!", a different story for a different time. Wait, but do you guys remember pogs? I loved pogs. Ok, I digress.)
See Exhibit A:
Why, hello mole! Nice of you to show up! I was just talking about you.
I don't know how many people experience talk about their moles but I have a few memories surrounding them. So, odd or not, I will share them with you now.
(Side note worth mentioning. My friends and I used to count all visible moles in class when we were bored, one time we got up to 50 or so.)
Memory #1 "Bus Mole" (See... I'm creative with my titles, because this one happened on a bus.)
In elementary school I would ride the bus to and from school every day. When I was in the 5th grade I finally got to sit in the back of the bus. That's something you had to wait for on our bus, like a privilege meant for the older kids. Less supervision and more goofing off happened at the back of the bus, so it was obviously the best place to be.
I went to a public school and I don't know if it's any different than private school, but all the boys started talking about kissing when they were around 10 or so. (Sorry to all of you mothers of boys around 10. It happens, your boy talks about kissing or at least thinks about it. Sorry if I burst some bubbles there.) KISSING!!! Yuck! I was a tomboy and kissing did not cross my mind... well rarely crossed my mind. But there was this boy on my bus who was obsessed with kissing. He would make smoochie sounds at me and ask to make out and I would cringe at the thought.
I would say "I would never kiss you. That's like totally gross."
I REALLY did not want to kiss this boy, EVER!
One day as I was getting off the bus I felt a tug on my shoulders from behind me. I didn't turn around, because I knew it was Mr. Kissy-Face. I tried to keep walking but he wouldn't let go of my shoulders. I finally pulled away from him and turned around to give him a nasty look and he jumped up and kissed me. Oh, my heart sank as he quickly popped up into my face and took a quick peck. Wait, did he just.... Yes, he missed. I ran off the bus as all the boys around him were laughing and I remember sprinting down the stairs and onto the pavement with the boy behind me, Mr. Kissy-Face, screaming "Yeah, I kissed her mole!!" Uhhhhhh... weird.... does it count as a first kiss if it was on the mole? I'm not sure, but that was one of the most horrifying experiences I had on any bus ride, EVER!
After that story I need some time to process. Grieve my mole virginity. I have an even more traumatizing one for tomorrow. Come back for Mole Saga #2 tomorrow, with an even more creative name. "Mole Buddha". Are you curious?
Meet one of my many high school crushes. This is Dan. He is a super cute and funny guy that was always a joy to be around. He lived right down the street from my best friend in high school. We would walk down to his house and hang out whenever we felt like it. I always thought he was cute and date-able until the night this pic was taken.
This was taken the night of my Junior Valentine's Day dance! We went to Burger King before hand because we were really classy. We wore our King hats and laughed our butts off. We also showed up at the dance for a bit, but, of course, there were parties that night, too. So we didn't stay the whole time. We left the dance in search of a party. We found a big party and did regrettable things like drinking and such, no details provided because I am still to embarrassed to admit it to the entire internet. (I do remember after my date's parents found out about our night, we weren't allowed to hang out anymore.) But while we were living out our teenage angst that evening. Dan was being more lovey-dovey than normal and saying very weird/funny things. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, he blurted out, "Can I kiss you?"
I suppose to some people that would be the proper way to go about it, but I just laughed and declined. Dan was cute enough to kiss, for sure. But with that blurb and the awkward moment, I had to refuse. If he wouldn't have asked I probably would've have kissed him, maybe even more than once, but the damage was done. In my mind, my funny friend was no longer date-able, he was just that, my "funny friend", who asked my permission to kiss me.
I don't think it was more than a month or two later that Dan came out of the closet to all of our friends. It made me wonder if I should have kissed him? Maybe I was his going to be his last experiment to test and see if his suspicions were true? Maybe he was drunk when he asked me and he doesn't even remember it? Maybe he was so crushed by my rejection he turned to a life of homosexuality? HAHA Probably not!
Oh, cute Dan and all other cute boys all over the world. If you have to ask if you can kiss a girl (or boy) your chances might not be good. Dan was the ONLY boy who ever asked permission to kiss me and probably the only boy who got totally shot down.
When I was a senior in High school there was a foreign exchange student at our school from Macedonia. She was one of the funniest people I have ever met. A lot of the kids at our school didn't get her sense of humor, but she always made me laugh out loud. Here is what she wrote in my yearbook my Senior year.
"Andrea,
This is Alexander the Great speaking. Or the Egyptian... but whatever I'm still a flower in my soul. I liked hanging with you and you are nice and cool friend, but very unique.
I'm wishing you everything the best in the future. Good luch with college and art and I hope you become a great artist or something. Have a great summer.
(HEART) Milicza
DA MACEDONIAN!!!"
Every time I read this I smile. There are some entries that I will have to black out before my children ever see them, but most are very sweet. This one in particular makes me remember my friend from World Religions class that said funny/creepy stuff to me everyday and always made me laugh out loud.
She really told me every day that I was a flower in her heart. I miss being a flower in her heart.
