throwback: elementary love version

Let me start this love saga off with the announcement that I was, in fact, the second most popular girl in elementary school. This status was legitimate because I didn't come up with it by myself. (even though it's totally something elementary-school-me would say about herself. i was a very pompous little girl. but now i'm super humble so it's not a problem) One of my friends told me that she had calculated it out and while Paige was the most popular (agreed. she was also my best friend, for what it's worth), I was the close second. I don't think I've ever been that close to the top of the social food chain since, so I bring it up whenever possible. Like...right now. Cool.

Being such a popular girl, boy drama was inevitable. With my crimped hair, huge bangs, buckteeth, and beanpole legs (which made me taller than all the boys) I was a catch. But this throwback isn't about how all the boys liked me because I was the SECOND MOST POPULAR GIRL IN SCHOOL (ok. i'll stop with that. especially since, as i think about it, it's not really something to brag about anyway. #sheesh). This is about the boys that I liked. So let's begin.

His name was Anders. We were in the same first grade class and would play "superbabies" at recess. All the boys would tuck their knees up into their shirts and hop around me, the superbaby mom. The boys would swarm, yelling "mommy! mommy!" while I pretended to be annoyed and not completely giddy at all the attention I was getting from all the coolest boys in first grade. But I really only had eyes for one. Anders.

All the girls did. From first grade to fifth grade, which was when he moved away, he was the boy all the girls wanted to dance with at the Valentine's Day dance, the one everyone wanted to sit next to at lunch, and play soccer with at recess. Your life ended if you weren't on the same Capture the Flag team as Anders during night games.

He was everything my elementary heart was looking for. Smart, athletic, neighborhood boy, pooka shell wearer, and had perfectly gelled hair that all the other boys tried to imitate. I was in love.

Nothing ever came of this love, however. My popularity must have intimidated him because he always chose to "date" the other girls. Whatever man. Your loss. i swear i'm not still bitter about this. maybe.

Then everything changed when Dylan came into the picture. We were in the same fourth/fifth split. I was a fifth, he was a fourth. (i'm telling you, i go for the younger guys). He was beautiful. We played soccer together. And walked home from school together. And would glance at each other and then quickly look away. It was the things songs are made of.

The fourth/fifth split went on a field trip that year to Classic Skating. I don't know what the educational value of this field trip was, but I am certainly glad it happened. The used skates, confetti pattern carpet, Avril Lavigne music, and disco lights and lasers were the perfect setting for the next (and final) step of Dylan and mine's relationship.

I had my favorite jean overalls on over my favorite pink plaid shirt. My bangs looked not so poofy and my braces matched my outfit. I was a bombshell. I remember standing with my friends in a crowd as the DJ announced that the "snowball" skate was about to happen (i still don't understand that name). This snowball dance was boys choice and I knew who I wanted to ask me to skate. I could see him standing over with his friends, could see him looking over at me, watched as his friends pushed him out of the circle, laughing. I stared as he came across the floor to our group. Everyone froze as he asked me to snowball skate with him (no eye contact was made during the making of this snowball couple). I agreed, took his hand, and spent the next 3 minutes of my life skating in circles without speaking a word. The song ended, we dropped each other's hand, actually looked at each other for the first time, said "see ya" and then skated away as fast as we could.

And that was the end.


I wish I could say that my strategy with boys has changed since then, but it really hasn't. The whole "no eye contact, no speaking, and running away" thing continues to reel them in. I can't help it.


peace and snowball skating

rrw

ps. this post is inspired by the linkup with The Life of Bon at www.thelifeofbon.com. Go look her up. She's hilarious. I just can't get the button thing to work for me, which, you know, is typical.