Posts Tagged ‘boyfriend’

New Kids on the Block. Takes me back to the rec room in my mom’s house… it was a huge room over the garage that had sofas, beds, exercise equipment, and most importantly a TV and VCR. Leslee, Steph, Dawn Marie, and I spent a bajillion hours in that room watching NKOTB videos. That is where we made the posters we took to the front row of their concert at Carowinds. Yes, we actually did that. When hurricane Hugo hit, we were out of school longer than we were out of power, so we really put in some quality time with the boy band from Boston while the adults were clearing fallen trees.

Who do you need? Who do you love? When you come undone?” 1993 riding in the back of a friend’s Amigo down Ocean Blvd. at Myrtle Beach, going to eat seafood. High school graduation trip. One of the few moments I spent with my boyfriend that week. Duran Duran had a comeback CD and it reminds me of that early summer. Love. Rejection. Anger. Sadness. I can smell the salt air when I hear that song.

James Taylor – You’ve Got A Friend. Riding around in “Scooby”, the name of my friend’s car. He was my best guy friend in high school and we would spend hours driving around the back roads and talking. We always listened to music and it was often James Taylor. He was there to listen when there was no one else. That friendship will always mean a great deal to me and this song will always make me think of those evenings riding around NC, with a friend. 

Myrtle Beach the year after graduation, Candlebox played the entire week. I shared a rental with 5 other girls. Some of the girls partied the entire week, staying intoxicated around the clock. Some focused on finding cute boys. Some of us partied part of the time, spent time on the beach, and just hung out with friends. My best friend sliced her finger open at 3am while trying to make spaghettios, after she stole my bed and put me on the sofa, and I took her to the rental office in search of a first aid kit. I was not happy. She was too drunk to take care of herself. “Now maybe. I didn’t mean to treat you bad. But I did it anyway.”

Blind Melon – No Rain. Riding around with Kerri in my black 92 Celica, talking about our on-again-off-again boyfriends and looking for the next party. We were 18. “All I can say is that my life is pretty plain. ya don’t like my point of view. ya think I’m insane…”


Aerosmith – Get A Grip. Concert with 3 of my girl friends and my boyfriend. My friends were drinking beer from the concession stand, and they placed them under their chairs to dance and scream to the music. The next time my girl reached down to grab her plastic cup, it was gone. The next I know, all 110 lbs. of her is screaming at the group of very large Harley Davidson riders standing behind us. She was underage, purchased the beer at the arena illegally, and was now making a scene and loudly announcing that she wanted her MoFo beer replaced RIGHT NOW! My boyfriend was not a wussy guy. I had seen him get in fights with guys our own age, but he was not about to jump in the middle against 5 huge motorcycle dudes twice his age. We asked her to shut up and just get another beer. She was pissed that we were not verbally jumping the bearded dudes with her. Hearing that Aerosmith CD takes me back to the mighty beer confrontation of feisty K. It also reminds me that Steven Tyler plucked a ~15 year old girl from the audience to mack on , ewwwwwwww!

Prince – When Doves Cry.  At a comedy club in Charlotte. I was 18 and I was out with my boyfriend, sister and her boyfriend. My sis and my boyfriend were too shy to get up on the stage, didn’t want to look like idiots. My sister’s boyfriend and I put our names on the list, didn’t so much care about looking like idiots. We waited and waited, as it seemed sis and bf were the only shy peeps in the crowd. This was a small place and every person there was having a great time and beginning to act like they had known the strangers around for years. We took our spot on the stage, and we began to sing… “Dig if u will the picture…”   Well, a couple of other girls got impatient and jumped onstage to join in on our karaoke. As they began to sing, my sis’ bf got pissed! He wanted no part whatsoever in sharing our mics with these party girls we didn’t know. They hijacked his song and so he bailed, literally jumping from the stage in a hissy man fit. Hahaha!

Limp BizkitBreak Stuff. This is the song I would play on the way home from work, when I worked at an animal intake shelter and dealt with dog fighters, seeing abused and neglected animals day in and day out, and tolerated people threatening me, which at times involved physical outbursts. No matter how crazy it got, I had to remain calm and work on behalf of the animals’ best interest, regardless of how much it pissed off the people associated with those animals. It was cathartic to blast this song on the way home and blow off some steam…                         

“It’s just one of those days
Feelin’ like a freight train
First one to complain
Leaves with a blood stain
Damn right I’m a maniac
You better watch your back
Cuz I’m fuckin’ up your program”

Leona Lewis. My current relationship. There are many songs that are connected to where I am now… but there is one in particular that represents the beginning. I hear Bleeding Love and it takes me back to driving to meet my boyfriend for a date. It may sound cheesy, but the lyrics describe what I was feeling… I had decided to just do without men because of icky past relationships, and then I fell in love by accident. Many warned me that our relationship was moving too fast and that I was falling for someone who would not stay with me for more than a minute.

All of the lyrics fit.

I was going to post the video, but I just watched it, and well… it’s really stupid.


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Inspired by Waiting for the Click and Why Is Daddy Crying?

I divided this into 2 posts because it ended up quite lengthy.

The first memories of music I have is from my father. He died when I was 6 years old. He loved music! He played in a band during his teen years and while I was young, he had amps set up in the garage through which he would  play his electric guitar. I remember pulling in the long driveway to our house after a trip to the  grocery store with my mom, and my dad would be rockin’ out in the garage, singing songs through a microphone and jamming on his guitar. He had the presence of a rock star! He would play his albums in the downstairs den and loved to watch my sister and I dance around and bounce like jumping beans to the tunes of Led Zeppelin, Allman Brothers Band, Grand Funk Railroad, and of course The Grateful Dead. I remember being so energized by the music, I could only see my blonde hair whipping around in front of my face and could hear my dad’s laughter through the fast guitar and heavy drums. One of my happiest memories of my entire life.

(I wish I had a photo of my father to include, but my sister borrowed my photo album and has not returned it. I will scan each and every photo as soon as I get it back!)

Michael Jackson – Thriller. My grandma. We had a Friday tradition of going to town to the steak house and then to the mall. My grandparents allowed me to select the first album I would own, and they purchased it for me. We returned home and played it on the turntable in the huge wooden cabinet. (I tried to find a picture but I couldn’t find one nearly as huge as the one in my grandparents’ home.) My grandma danced with me and it was all kinds of fun! I was 7. It’s the first memory I have of seeing my grandma be totally joyful and have fun since my dad had died the previous year.

Country music two-stepped in. My mother’s favorite was country and the next guy she dated after my father died was a DJ on the top country station in Charlotte. She was always going to concerts and coming home with pictures with the artists. Alabama was my first concert. I was 7 or 8 years old and I fell asleep. Their music still comforts me. I have not been a country music fan in my adult life. I never listen to country radio stations, but there are songs of that genre from the early 80’s that are so nostalgic. One summer at Myrtle Beach, it wouldn’t stop raining. Stuck in the house for a couple of days, we listened to Alabama over and over. Dixieland Delight, Mountain Music, Feels So Right. I now have some of them on my iPod and my favorite is “The Closer You Get”. I remember sitting in the white plastic swivel chair in the living room and helping my mom put a puzzle together while the rain loudly poured outside. I’m sure the puzzle was a picture of horses… or maybe puppies.

A lot of the music from the 70’s reminds me of my Aunt Tammie. She introduced me to Foreigner, 38 Special, Heart, Blondie, Parliament-Funkadelic, and The Sugarhill Gang, just to name a few. She admired Ann & Nancy Wilson of Heart because they played their own instruments… didn’t need men for rock guitar. We dressed up in costumes, make-up, heels, and danced around to choreographed routines. Laughing and giggling to the wee hours of the morning.

And then there was Bon Jovi. My obsession. I was such a dedicated fan that I owned a band t-shirt for each day of the week, and in the 6th grade, my entire wardrobe consisted of blue jeans, high top Converse sneakers, and Bon Jovi t-shirts. I didn’t care how nerdy anyone thought me to be. It was about the music. It mattered more. And who are we kidding? I had a mad crush on Jon Bon Jovi. To this day, you listen to the old songs and realize why women love them so much. We all want a man to think of us and love us the way he describes in those songs. No matter how cheesy anyone thinks the music is, one should be so lucky to have another love them so passionately. “I’ll be there till the stars don’t shine Till the heavens burst and words don’t rhyme And I know when I die you’ll be on my mind
And I’ll love you always

I loved the movie Pretty in Pink. I had the soundtrack on cassette tape and played it on a Walkman. I used to spend all of my weekends at my grandparents’ home. I would spend hours driving the go-cart around their property, around the pond, the dog pens, the orchard, the gardens with my headphones blaring the soundtrack over and over, thinking about how I couldn’t wait to become a teenager and have a boyfriend. “If you leave, don’t leave now. Please don’t take my heart away…”

Speaking of boyfriends, a highschool boyfriend used to sing to me as long as I couldn’t see him. He would hold me close and sing in my ear, “Shameless” by Garth Brooks. “Well I’m shameless when it comes to loving you
I’ll do anything you want me to… I’ll do anything at all
Every Boys II Men song reminds me of those days too and of that relationship. One moment in particular was on a hot summer night. The song was playing on a girl’s boombox by the pool. Swimming at night is the best, especially with someone who is playful and sings you Boys II Men.

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We have come so far… and then not really. I never, ever, ever thought I would be a single woman closing in on the mid-thirty mark. I was married and the plan was for that to be forever. In this age, forever is a smidge shorter than it used to be for many of us. I got married way too young! You always hear people say that, and well I know what it means. And, what it doesn’t mean. It does NOT mean, oh I changed my mind or that I didn’t take the commitment seriously. Rather I didn’t know the warning signs to look out for, have high enough standards, or know how to protect myself… I wasn’t old enough, didn’t have enough life experience to know how. I certainly didn’t have guidance and support to help me in that area either.

So, here I am. On my next birthday I turn 35. That dreaded number. The one that we read about in my genetics course. Biological age, reproductive age, OLD eggs, genetic mutations, fetuses aborting themselves because they were not developing normally, increase of chromosomal disorders, etc. I never thought I would be someone who thinks about the cliché of my clock ticking. Well, tick, tick tick! It’s something you do not and can not understand until it happens to you. It brings on thoughts and emotions that I had only assigned other women capable of thinking and feeling. Oh, I’m not gonna be one of those! Well shit, never say never applies once again. I won’t go into my evolution of thought on the subject of having children and how it has changed and swayed over the years. This is more about the differences between men and women… the differences in expectations and judgments, and the straight up differences that feed double standards in today’s society and relationships.

I have been with my current boyfriend, which by the by sounds like a ridiculous label at this age, for 2+ years. He is 40. We originally met 10 years ago, so we had a good base of understanding of one another when we started dating. Well, according to everyone who talks to me, we have been together too long to just be dating, at this age. I hear this, ALL OF THE TIME. I get the questions. Do you think he’s getting you a ring? Are y’all living together yet? Has he talked about marriage? Does he want children? The questions really started full speed ahead when we hit our one year mark. So you can deduce that I have heard this broken record of questioning for more than a year now. And what’s it like for him? Is he tired of the constant questions? NOOOOO… because HE is never the receiver, the target, the victim of inquisition! Why? Why does he not get the same questions about our relationship? I mean, he’s older than I am. Plus, he is the one who has never been married. Most of the people who ask me these questions are HIS people. I met them through him and now they want to keep tabs on us without asking him.

If people generally think that men are the ones in charge of progression of a relationship, by traditional standards, then why do the women get all the questions, pressure, da da da, da da? More often than not, the man does the proposing. But, no pressure. Don’t talk about it with your friends, that way they can just ask me for an update on a monthly (and sometimes) weekly basis.

This does come back around to what I rambled about up top. We get the questions and the pressure because we are the ones with the limitations. The expire dates. Oh, how lovely that sounds. People assume we’re ticking and anxious and find the need to remind us of our age. Like we f*cking forgot! Do you often randomly forget your age? Apart from an actual memory impairment, as in permanent brain damage, I’m certain you are well aware of the exact amount of time you have spent on earth.

The absolute best is when someone has assumed I am younger than I am, and after bringing up such subjects of my relationship progression, reassure me with, “Don’t worry, you still have plenty of time sweetie… how old are you anyway?” After I respond, I get just an “OH!”

Well, I feel better.

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I was hanging out with my fella and a couple of our friends the other night. They have known my man for 10 years (she) or 20 years (he). It doesn’t really matter what led up to this comment… and to be quite honest, I don’t exactly remember. The point is that the “she” friend said to me:
“Well at least they will always make us laugh… no matter what else,
we will always have fun with them!”

When we are younger, we are reminded by our elders how much personality matters and that it should be developed and valued over physical traits and appearance (if we were lucky enough to have smart elders around). With a little age and experience, one realizes how essential a stellar personality is in your other person… to find that person attractive and enjoyable day to day and year after more years. It has to work for you and only you… but no matter what keeps you smitten, laughing, interested, whatever, whatever, it always comes back to personality. Period.

I do indeed have an experience from my past that vividly solidified this for me, at the age of 18. I went on two dates with a physical trainer who had the most muscular body I have ever hugged in real life. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time, was bored, and this guy was really good looking. I thought, he’s different than other guys I have dated, but what the hell? Different may be better. Unfortunately, he had the personality and excitement of a doormat. Not a doormat with a clever quote or cute greeting… but rather one who found it necessary to worry about how many fat grams were in my bean burrito and nachos and cheese dip. (At the time I weighed about 112 lbs. at 5’7″.) If you know me at all, insulting my divine obsession for and enjoyment of authentic Mexican cuisine is a heinous act to commit. The only conversation he could participate in was telling me how many miles he had run that day, how much weight he had lifted, and how many calories he had not consumed by abstaining from beer, food that taste worth a damn, and any other indulgence that is usually normal for a 21 year old. It was enough for me to realize that I never cared to go on another date with anyone based on looks from that point forward and forever more.

I mean, you have to be attracted to someone… but again that brings you back around to personality, or at least it does for me. A magnetic personality can physically transform a person before your very eyes. It may sound cheesy and cliché, but it is the absolute truth. How else can women still get all googly over their men even after he has lost some or all of his hair, gained a lil or a lotta weight, and may not even be deemed attractive by the average woman? That’s what we all want though… not that we hope and pray that our men will fall apart over the years… but let’s face it, the aging process is not equally kind to everyone. It can be a little unpredictable at best, and basically I want to really like someone at their core, for the energy they exude and for their place in the world (not their career status or such but for their contributions to humanity on even the tiniest day-to-day scale). I want a man who can easily make me laugh, carry on an intellectual conversation, be open enough and secure with himself to learn from me, and be interesting enough to teach me new things or prompt new thought or debate… and be amusing, lively, and straight-up FUN!

When you’ve had a bad day, are struggling with stresses from work, children, parents or other family members, whomever the pains in your arse may be, it sure is nice to have someone to spend time with who just makes you giggle. And if you’re lucky, that person can help you forget the troubles of the world (when you need it most) and make you laugh your arse off!

ENDING NOTE: I previously thought I could only be physically attracted to a guy over 6 feet tall. I am a tall chick in heels and one of my superficial preferences was to have a guy who would always be taller than I, regardless of my foot attire. Well, my man is 5’11” and I look him square in the eyes while wearing pumps… but I couldn’t be more smitten. Personality baby! Don’t sell it short and don’t overlook the short(er). Dammit I’m cheesy today!

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