04 March, 2011

boys of summer (and other seasonal afflictions)

i was a late bloomer. my first boyfriend and my first kiss was...whoa! wait a minute! my actual first boyfriend and my actual first kiss were actually in kindergarten, so i suppose i was more of a junior hussy than a late bloomer, but then many many years passed before it happened again, so you can take it any way you will. here, for your reading enjoyment, is a crash course in my love life. enjoy.

after my high school boyfriend j broke my heart, i recovered by bawling a-plenty, staring at walls and giving up jesus. don't know if the latter two really did much for me, but the first was a great help: my sinuses have never been cleaner.

then came my wild years.

first, there was that guy who was a friend of a friend and damn sexy he seemed. he wore a great big furry hat with a sense of panache and what girl can resist a furry hat or sense of panache? not this one, apparently. he also kept a stuffed wombat in his car.

then there was the one who looked like this (still does, i imagine; that kind of look does not go away with age). we got along great and when we passed the two week mark, he dumped me unceremoniously (i found out later he had a two week limit). whatevs, who wants to be dating jafar for any length of time? i imagine the parrot would get annoying.

after this came a profusion of meaningless sex relationships. some even with musicians. i strongly discourage you, my poultries, from dating musicians. their egos are dangerously large and their attention spans dangerously short. also, they think they are very sexy. they are sexy but never as sexy as they think. in unrelated news, it was at this time that i learned to get sound out of a saxophone.

there were scotsmen and irishmen, and men who used black garbage bags as their shower curtains (that didn't last long). there were men who turned out to be great friends, and men who turned out to be something else entirely. there was even a frenchman who "forgot" to bring a wallet to the date and still figured he'd get some; he didn't. let's be honest, it was a fun bunch of years.

one cannot forget the men i let take me out to dinner during my lean years. i am not proud but i was very poor. i suppose i ought to have simply carried a sandwich board that said "WILL DATE FOR FOOD".  just so you know, though, that is all i did. this girl has some standards. i figured what they got was an evening out with a pretty young thing, and what i got was a hot meal. no other currency was exchanged, if you know what i mean, and i think that you do.

then came the day that i walked into a repertory movie theatre and locked eyes with the handsome man behind the concession counter. i looked at him, and knew then and there that he was The One. he was indeed: The One guy i truly regret dating. he was handsome, intelligent, almost twice my age, and absolutely insane in the medical sense of the word. a decade later he was still stalking me and he is The One reason i have had an unlisted phone number and the highest privacy settings on facebook for years. as you can imagine, i no longer believe in love at first sight.

after this, for safety reasons, i dated a man with a gun. a mountie's life was not for me so after 3 years of fun, driving around in police cruisers and much drama, i ran away and went back to school. there i met mr. monkey who's not a musician, not certifiable and does not own a gun. it was not love at first sight, but i suppose i just sort of grew on him. we've just passed our 13th dating anniversary and are in our tenth year as mr. and mrs.

your turn.

9 comments:

Country Gent said...

I think you're forgetting the gun he keeps in the cabinet. I realise it's little more than a paperweight but he has one nonetheless. I believe it's been pointed at me at least once.

Zhoen said...

After twenty years with my good guy, I have rather intentionally forgotten the more embarrassing experiences. That and I never actually dated, more like jumping into relationships. No blind dates, ever, though.

Alison Cross said...

Met Tertarus at school. We dated. I dumped him. I went to uni and went through a string of fairly lovely but unsuitable types (the one who wrote me poems in Elvish; the Italian one I went out with because his mother's cooking was divine); the small one with the non-ironic mullet)

Then I dated Tertarus again and dumped him.

Then I had a dreadful interlude with a married man except I didn't know he was a married man. I dumped him.

I went back out with Tertarus and we got married. Then we got divorced.

Then we started dating. Then we bought a house. Then we had a child.

A lot of the time I could quite happily stab him to death, but other times, I am quite fond of him. And he would say the same about me. We honestly have no idea why we have kept orbiting around each other, but it seems to work.

Ali x

the polish chick said...

cg - it's my gun. i personally stole it from mr. monkey's mother, so it doesn't count. and it was probably moi who did the pointing.

z - i have never been on a blind date either. seems awfully frightening.

ali - that explains the whole divorce comment in one of my previous posts. your love life is the stuff soap operas are made of! well done!

Lucy said...

I can only stand in awe.

And reticence. European gun laws make things a little quieter on the whole.

the polish chick said...

lucy! dear lord! i'm canadian, NOT american! we have a similar anti-gun stance which i heartily and wholeheartedly approve.
it's not a real gun. it's just a lovely antique metal fake and it's very very pretty.

the polish chick said...

also, lucy, he was a mountie, a canadian policeman. his gun was fully legal, just so you know.

and yes, i am appalled that you might think of me as some gun-loving madwoman. a madwoman i may be, but i loathe guns.

Country Gent said...

You're all missing out if you've never been on a blind date. Those are always the dates where you wish you were blind.

Geneviève said...

Early bloomer...if my mother only knew what her 'innocent' thirteen year old was up to! Had a succession of boyfriends throughout my teen years. Then I went on an exchange program and fell in LOVE for the first time. To a gay guy. Who's still one of my dearest friends 20 years later. First year university, my boyfriend came out of the closet WHILE dating me. Detect a pattern? There were other gay types before and after but I'll spare you the gory details. I sorta casually dated various guys for a bit. Then I had a (two-year) fling with the PhD student I was working for. Then I worked for another grad student in the Yukon, who was gay, but this time it didn't matter because he was a dweeb. Lots of sex in the land of the midnight sun. A couple other interludes, one with a fire fighter who liked to mess with my head (but man, what a body!), and another with the cousin of a dear friend who didn't quite know what to make of it. I've been with my husband for fifteen years and I love him more and more each day (if you'll pardon the cliché).