Not so perfect, not so young

Monday, June 05, 2006

This could be trouble

I always want to post, but lately I've felt like nothing much has been going on in my life to write about. It's either too personal, or it violates confidentiality agreements related to my school practicum, or it's all just too darn boring.

And then it hit me. Why don't I just write some random anecdotes based on past experiences? Sounds good to me. It you've known me for a while, you will have heard tham before. Sorry.

As I've mentioned here, Daniel recently went on a choir tour that I wasn't part of. When he returned, I actually had a few dreams that he was cheating on me. Once with numerous young ladies, and once with a 50-year-old lady who was, erm, friskier than I was (keeping it family-friendly here).

I know perfectly well why a choir tour that involved bus travel sparked latent insecurities and fears that my partner will be unfaithful. But it's a kind of long story. Maybe I'll write it in installments, sort of a cliffhanger serial post, to keep you coming back for more. Tales of adolescent infatuation and heartache. . . tales from a prairie girlhood. . . tales of what a stupid kid I was.

Back in high school, I wouldn't "date" boys, because I was (and am) a christian (is there an html code for adding a little halo over words?). When my christian friends dated boys, I expressed general disapproval and self-righteousness.

What I would do, instead, was be "just friends" with boys, and we would go for coffee, take long walks in the park, and traipse about in wheat fields in the light of the harvest moon. After 6 months or so of this, we may kiss once, on the lips, but only if we were standing in a park or in a field or on a bridge in the moonlight. Seriously.

Just how irritating was I? Just how much pillow-sobbing did my behaviour cause? How many high school boys would restrict themselves to moonlit hand-holding with a non-committal young prig?

Tune in tomorrow, to find out!


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