Category Archives: love

Remembering my first real kiss.

In my memory, I look WAY cooler. But this is what 13-year-old me had goin’ on.

I was 13, and I was wearing his Huey Lewis the News tee, cropped jeans, white Keds, and a red bandana tied around my neck. We drove around in his car for a while, Berlin’s Pleasure Victim cranked on the stereo. (Despite the obvious sexuality of the “Sex…I’m A” lyrics, nothing about this night was about sex. It was about romance.)

He stopped the car, we got out to look at the stars — and in one, magical movement, he swept me off my feet, sat me on top of the hood, and leaned in to kiss me. It seemed like it lasted forever. It was a perfect movie moment with someone special, and one of the last (and only) times I’d be with a boy who didn’t immediately push me for more.

Just a kiss. A really beautiful, unforgettable kiss.

If I knew where he was now, I’d thank him for that.

Thank you, Terry. For one of the only nice teenage memories I have. Thank you.    


New Zealand Memories (8 years later)

Attn. nerds: this is the river in LoTR where Arwen saves Frodo from the Ringwraiths!!! (with Jen & me trying to look cool in front of it)

Eight years ago on March 24, I was in New Zealand with my friends Jen & Rob on what I like to call “my divorce settlement trip.” Divorce settlement meaning that I took the money I got from selling the my ex’s Mustang and motor home (which he left on my dad’s property, and I’m fully convinced he only gave  them to me–via the divorce agreement–because he didn’t want to face my dad in order to get them back) and used it to buy plane tickets. J&R generously financed my hotel rooms, which I will never be able to thank them for ENOUGH, because it was one of the raddest things I’ve ever done.

Anyway! We started in Queenstown, with a side-trip to Dunedin, and then we moved to Auckland for the last few days. Queenstown is INSANELY BEAUTIFUL. Surrounded by clear, gorgeous bright blue water, with a ring of mountains so close you can pretty much touch them, and a cute brick-laid main street with lots of eating, drinking, and shopping options. Dunedin was a 6-hour drive away, and had more of a big city feel (as big a city as you can pack onto an island, anyway). And Auckland reminded me so much of Seattle, it was eerie. But I digress.

Here I present to you my favorite moments from that trip–the things that I think about a lot. And miss. And want to relive.  Continue reading


Reasons why my dad is awesome: The Freddy Story

My Dad in 1983. Yes, this is an actual Polaroid, not a iPhone app.

Sometime when I was around 8 or 9, the flashy new cable channel my dad had ordered kept playing previews for Brian De Palma’s Dressed to Kill. I was fascinated by the scene in the elevator with the flash of a straight razor. I BEGGED my parents to let me watch it. “Let me watch it! Please please please ohpleasepleasepleaseplease pleasesssseeeeeeee”. They both told me I’d get nightmares and I was too old to sleep with them when I got scared, NO WAY. But I did not relent! Finally, they gave in.

Guess what? I had nightmares and ended up in my parent’s bed around 3am.“WE TOLD YOU SO! No more scary movies until you’re….13”.

Unfortunately for me, before I turned 13 – Friday the 13th Part 3 became a hot topic amongst my 6th grade friends,  to the point where we were passing around the book adaptation on the bus, taking turns staring at the gruesome film stills in the middle and reading the grossest murder descriptions. Yes, middle school kids are sick. I know this. Continue reading


I wish I could find you again.

{note: This was written in 2002 when I was regretting losing touch with a friend who had gotten me through some really, really bad times. I frequently Google and search his name on Facebook, but have never been able to find him again. I really wish I could, if only just to say, “Thank you for being there.”}

I remember the first time I met you, and I lied about my age because I knew you were a little bit older, and I wanted you to like me. I was 13, you were 15.

I remember talking you for hours on the phone, about everything and nothing. You laughing and playing and jumping, me lying on the bed and twisting the phone cord around my hand. Sometimes, we’d fall asleep on the phone together, and then wake up and whisper ‘goodnight’ before hanging up. I talked to you almost every night, and I loved it.

I remember you picking me up when you got your license, and driving me down to your house. We’d hang out in your room and be silly and watch bad movies. I remember your birthday parties, your friends, your parents. I remember you being the only one who made me happy, who understood me.

I remember you stopping by to see me after visiting your brother. You’d tap on my window to wake me up and I’d let you in. We’d sit and talk, sometimes we’d gripe about things we hated in our lives, and try to figure out how to change them.

I remember you holding me when I told you he hit me. We cried together, and I wished you were mine. I remember that one, perfect kiss, your moment of confusion — then kind of laughing it off as a lonely mistake.

I remember meeting you for pizza. One last time, before you took the military plunge, before you left me and headed off for who knows what.

I miss you, Kelly. I wish I could find you again.


Less Complaining, More Sexy Rumpus

Look, I’m definitely not an “expecting diamonds and chocolates and roses” kind of girl, but I also don’t understand people’s burning, seething hatred of today. Guess what? ALL major holidays are too commercial and overrun with consumerism! Also, don’t begrudge the people who love celebrating their love with some romantic times. Yes, they should celebrate it every day, but if they don’t, people get busy and caught up in life stuff, and today reminds them that they should (also, how do you know that they don’t?).

My dad was always big on showing the love on Valentine’s Day – he usually picked out a sappy card for me and one for mom, and stopped to get some boxed chocolates for all of us to share on the way home from work. He STILL calls me every Valentine’s Day, which I think is the cutest. thing. ever. So I continue to think of today as more of a reminder to tell everyone I love that I’m thinking about them, and less about receiving or giving fancy gifts. That said, if someone I’m in a relationship with wants to spoil me with love notes and rose petals and mix CDS, I’m not gonna complain about it. Conversely, when I’ve been single on Valentine’s Day I’ve always spent it watching horror movies and eating pizza with girlfriends. And I like both things equally! Who knew?

Also, I said it earlier on Facebook, but one of my favorite people was born on February 14th, so it’s impossible to hate it.

In related news, The Oatmeal has said everything about Valentine’s Day that needs to be said, ever. Which means…I probably didn’t need to write this. Oops!


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