Now For Something Completley Different

When I was fourteen, I had the biggest crush on J. He was not that handsome, but there was something in his bad boy ways and crooked smile that completely captured me, and I was not the only one. Half our school had a crush on him in some form or fashion. He had the coolest clothes, coolest attitude, and the coolest car. One thing that really stands out to me about J. was the fact he always treated me like a lady. Even though some of the crush was reciprocated, he was never lewd. He knew I was a little girl, and I was too nice of a girl to use. He and I became friends, and often on Friday nights, he would pull into my driveway and take me out for pizza.

Now span twenty--cough--cough--years, and he is back in town. Now, before you go and start thinking of something romantic, you must know a horrible fact, something that makes me shake my head in fear and wonder: J. still thinks he is seventeen. Oh, yes, he is has fallen victim to "I can still be cool" syndrome. In fact, he has it so bad, he is only one step away from regrowing the mullet.

I began to notice the symptoms when my phone began to ring late at night a few years ago. Yep, he was drunk dialing, and the only thing he could mumble about was our glory days. He is also very full of himself and speaks as if he is officially the only man on earth that can merit female attention. Mmmm, I wonder if George Clooney knows about this? Then he went on a website and complained that nobody went out on the weekends anymore. Nobody was cruising the once upon the time hot spots. He basically called us all out, but I had an excuse. I grew up. I no longer feel the perpetual need to drive in circle and use the word torque in sentences. I gave up the big hair, blue jean miniskirts, and bangle bracelets some time ago. I miss my younger, cuter self, but she is like a visiting relative, nice to see every now and then, but real life is so much more comfortable. I have a career that I love, my family who I love even more, and friends who know there is more to life than the next big score. I would much rather live in the here and now instead of a past that I am sure wasn't that glorious in the first place.

I woke up this morning to my phone turning on and my voicemail beeping. Yep, it was J. at 1 AM in the morning. Sometimes it is time to just turn off the phone.

Ah, Amore

So, we have survived the first week of school, and everything has went very well for all. I love my classes, and for the most part, the students are great. I have several fun and challenging personalities that will make this an interesting year. I am wondering if the Antichrist is in one class, but that is a blog for another time. Thing Two is embracing third grade with a contagious excitement that is rarely seen outside of reality television. He loves his teacher. He loves his new best friend. He loves it all. Every morning he bounced out of bed looking for a new adventure. Thing One is still wondering what the fuss is about middle school. She is so my child on many aspects. She has very little tolerance for the laid back teacher. She sees through the jokes and wonders if he is just lazy. Hopefully, he is just funny and not the other. She loves the teachers who are difficult because she knows they will challenge her. She told me her English teacher told it like it was, and she wasn't going to put up with nonsense, and Thing One loves her.

That isn't the only thing that has Thing One's attention. It seems in trying to find classes and figure out the new locker, she has also noticed C., and C. is so pretty. She blushes as she describes him, and giggles when she revels he is sitting next to her in 6th period. Boys have noticed her since preschool. Her preschool teacher told me she has the magic ability to make boys stupid, and she does even though she has no clue. Every Christmas and Valentine's Day a new teddy bear or heart shaped necklace will come in possession, and she just thinks that they are such good friends. She never thought they more than that. They were sometimes just gum on her shoes, annoying in their attempts. She never understood their attention. She was too young. C. is just different. He called her "pretty lady" and she giggled for two hours. She knows every step, every look, and every conversation.

And so it begins...