Friday, October 30, 2009

Learning About Love - The Hard Way, Part 2

Make sure to read Part 1 before this one.


On our 15 block walk back home, we exchanged a few “I am the man” nods…but did not say much to one another. Once we got home, our father wanted to know the scoop. We filled him in to the best of our ability and then went into our room. Antsy and pacing around the room, I did not know how long I could put off calling her. I need to know if we were going to see each other again. I needed to know if she really liked me. I needed to know if there was a chance of a long distance relationship. I was dying. After about an hour and a half…I was defeated. I caved and called the number that she wrote on my hand.

After a few short rings, the sound of her sweet voice filled my ear. I struggled for words. A few seconds later I was comfortable speaking again. She had a weird way of calming me. I adored that in her.

We saw each other a few more times before I headed back home to New Hampshire. During these visits we kissed twice, we sat in her room for hours talking and listening to music, we agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend and we agreed to call and write to each other frequently.

Once home, I bragged to all of my friends (all that would listen) about how "I picked up the hottest girl in New York and now she is my girlfriend." I don’t think many of them believed me…until the day that I got my first letter from her. It was the sweetest love letter I had ever gotten and it had a Polaroid picture of her in front of Tower Records. My friends, after seeing her picture, both believed and, from then on, looked up to me.

After a few weeks, it was time for me to go upstate to my boarding school. I did not like that idea of being that much further away from ‘my love’ but I had no choice. The adjustment to living at school was tough, but was made much easier with the picture of Vanessa on my desk and the letters I received EVERY day from her. I literally got about 40 letters from her in the first 2 months of school.

After a few more months, and as the letters slowed in frequency, I received the letter that I hoped would never come. The Break Up Letter. I was crushed. I know that I had only known her for a handful of months and that I’d only actually seen her in person 5 or 6 times and she lived 10 hours away…but still. I moped around for a week or so hoping that I’d get another letter…which never came.

The next two years I spent flirting and having flings with all of the teachers’ (age appropriate) children and a few girls from neighboring towns. I suppose it was the experimental phase…where I needed to know where I stood as far as picking up girls and handling short term relationships. It was quite fun while it lasted (barring the time I got caught with the headmaster’s daughter in the bathroom of the church.) but I knew that when I got back home, I was ready for something more.


...More to come

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Learning About Love - The Hard Way

Daddy Geek Boy’s recent post really got me thinking…thinking about my childhood and old relationships.

It not only re-hashed memories of my first ‘true love’ (Sydney something) who moved out of state 3 days after we started ‘going together.’ I had liked her for a long time (at least a month) before I got up the nerve to ask her out. Yeah…my timing sucked. We could have had a whole month together. The way that my 7th grade mind processed that badly timed and handled relationship was this: I would no longer fear rejection and if I liked someone…they knew it at the same time as I did.

This led me into quite a difficult to sum up stage.

It was the summer between 7th and 8th grade and 2 of my siblings and I were with our father in NYC and browsing through the aisles at Tower Records. All of the sudden my brother (2 years my junior) rammed his elbow into my ribs. As I raised my fist above my head, ready to open the flood gates upon him I grunted, “What?!...the hell was that for?” Not at all scared of the impending fist in the face…he just pointed. There were two girls a few rows over…looking up at us and giggling.

Holy shit they were hot! I mule kicked my sister so that she would get away from us, and proceeded to shyly look over at them and then smile and look away. This continued for a few minute…until I was brought back to reality by a tap on my shoulder. It was my father. I thought he was going to totally ruin this…a kind of tendency he has. But he didn’t. He handed me $5 and said, “Go buy those cute girls a Coke or something…and meet us at home before dark.”

My brother and I were in shock…starring at one another as our father and sister left the store. We grinned and then continued with our little eye game with the girls. Then it hit me…a flash of Sydney. I was not going to let this opportunity get away. Noticing that we had drifted into the Opera section, we, needing to collect ourselves, headed for the door, looking at the girls over our shoulders a few times before getting out o the street.

Once outside, we propped ourselves against the side of the building and began throwing ideas around as to what we’d say to them when the came out. All of the sudden the emerged from the store, saw us and smiled. As they neared us I could not believe how good looking they were.

After a very awkward greeting and introduction, the two of them agreed to go for a soda with us. While standing in line at the hot dog cart, we exchanged bits and pieces of info about ourselves.

Not thinking about the fact that this was New York and we lived in New Hampshire…or the fact that at the end of the summer I would be going to boarding school about 4 hour further north. We were here and they were interested.

Vanessa (mine) had super long black hair that swayed back and forth across the top of her ass, hazel eyes and a developing body that made me stare a bit more than I should have. Her friend Nancy (my brother’s) was a strawberry blonde with a Brooklyn accent and beautiful blue eyes.

We sat on a nearby bench, talking about what we’d been doing, music that we liked and how long we were going to be here in the city. It was bliss. I remember when Vanessa’s father came over and told them that it was time to go. I was crushed. I sadly watched as she and her friend trailed behind her father…looking back at us. As I sat there thinking of yet another way too short relationship, she came running back and grabbed my hand. Whipping a pen out of her pocket, she wrote down her phone number and whispered in my ear to call her later.

I think I about peed myself. With my mouth gaping open and an odd grimace on my face, I waved as she trotted to catch up with her father. Once out of sight my brother and I turned towards each other and proceeded to give each other a high five followed by the most ridiculous end zone dance imaginable.

...More to come

Monday, October 26, 2009

My Balls

As a stay at home dad, I do have a lot of the same concerns, issues and interactions as many of the mommy bloggers out there….BUT…I also have balls…these balls that sway between my thighs send messages to my brain on a continual basis that help me to realize that things such as shopping, cute baby pictures, shoes, malls, brunch with friends and movies like ‘The Notebook’ or “when Harry Met Sally’ are just NOT what I should be blogging or worrying about.

My Balls tell me to pay a bit more attention to; love, sex, hot women, fast cars, fishing, camping, the NFL, poker, action movies (with lots of guns), being ‘king’ of my world, protecting and caring for my family, ….oh…..and beer!

Twisted as women think men are…we, as parents, strive for the same things (I think). It is just that we travel differing paths to get there. Men, well….shit….I’ll talk for myself. I seem to take the most difficult, but exciting paths…anything to add adventure and adrenaline to my journey. Women on the other hand, generally tend to take that meandering, path that moves slowly past the flowers and the pretty houses.

So, all in all…don’t be haters ladies. Love us for the end goals…not the path that we take to get there. Remember it is not us that chooses the path…it is our balls. The balls that provide you with pleasure and children…I assure you…you would hate us without them!

 

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