Crushes

I feel like errybuddy is writing, or at least THINKING about crushes these days, and, since my No.1 favorite pastime is jumping on bandwagons, I'm going to as well!  Crushes totally suck/are amazing and give reason and meaning to life. They are honest, at least, in that they crush your soul and evaporate you will to live when they don't work out... which is usually.

I have had a lot of crushes in my life; too many to recount here. I have carefully curated a collection of three, which three are basically the epitome of crush-life for me. They each, in their own way have been my major pattern-establishing relationships with men.

On with the tales of the lovelorn!

First crush/boyfriend: Mitch
Age: 3-4
What I liked about him: He had spikey blonde hair and maybe a bit of a baby mullet. This is the stuff of dreams, people.
Highlights of our relationship: This is the only one of the crushes recounted here who I actually dated.We took naps next to each other at nap time in preschool at Weber State University in Ogden Utah in the Late 80's. I distinctly remember three events with Mitch. First, I remember that we stayed up through nap time talking to each other (I think this is just what I do with boys: Stay up late talking with them), so our teacher came in and told us we could come and play with Play Doh instead, which felt like we were being rewarded with extra play time. It was a great date. Second, I remember Mitch was the coolest boy because he was fast. He was always the first boy out the door to outside playtime. As his girlfriend, I reaped the rewards of his animal skill in that he always had his pick of tricycles (which is saying a lot from a publicly funded institution in the wake of Reaganomics). I remember a very early feeling of entitlement to the best tricycle on the squishy blacktop stuff, because he always chose the best one and then gave it to me. What a charmer, that guy. Third, Mitch loved to sing. He wasn't any good (I mean, he was 4...), and he didn't have much of a repertoire: He knew precisely one song, and he sang it to me. It was our ritual that he would sing it to me every morning as we colored. I think my interactions with Mitch were pretty formative in the way I have interacted with men my entire life. Yikes.

 Second Crush: Cody
Age: 9-12
What I liked about him: He was dumb and he had big muscles.
Highlights of our relationship: Cody was the first boy I like-liked. It was that age where you start noticing the opposite sex, and the things I noticed about him were... immature (but oh-so-fun). The first time I remember having feelings for him were after we had won a kickball tournament, third graders (us) against the fourth graders in the upset-game of the century. Our team was relaxing under a tree in the field behind the school, all lounging in the shade, and Cody sat next to me. He was so sweaty, and I was suuuuper into it (yum). From there, I was gone. I got nervous around him, because I was a pretty smart kid, and I was afraid of scaring him away by the intimidation factor. I kept pretty clammed up, until one day he asked me for some help with a few math problems (I hadn't been paying attention to math- I was paying attention to his arms while he wrote numbers on his worksheet). I obliged, and somehow, miraculously, he understood. He got really good at math (and ONLY math) after that, so I was convinced that we were meant to be in love. We were on a team that went to a regional math and science competition and took second place. My fascination with Cody ended when his BFF Brody (aaaaah, naming patterns of late eighties Northern-Utah) asked me to be his girlfriend and "go out". I decided things would be way to complicated if I was still burning a flame for Cody, so I put an end to it with him. I've never been one for drama. Sometimes I still think about his arms. His big, stupid arms.


Third Crush: Brett
Age: 15-18
What I liked about him: He was smart (probably too smart) and absolutely FULL of angst and rage.
Highlights of our relationship: I liked Brett from the first time I saw him in sophomore year during AP European History class (you will note that I have moved on to intelligent men since Cody...) He was decked out in a straightedge shirt, complete with cuffed jeans and an angry scowl on his face. Brett was mad about things. He wanted to rail against the system, and he had a plan. He knew what he wanted, he knew what stood in his way. His forte was political commentary based on cutting analysis and a serious ego (I always fall for boys with huge egos... WHEN WILL I LEARN!?!?). He smelled like baby powder, menthol cigarettes (straightedgers don't smoke...) and grape juice, and he taught me how to be an intellectual snob like none other before or since. I have been fighting his influence for a decade, and trying to figure out how to stop fighting the world. We often ditched fifth and sixth period and went to the beach after buying cheap Chinese food, and would talk for hours about history and meaning. Brett was in my brain as often and probably more than I was in his grey Ford Ranger, which I still sometimes find myself double-take glancing for. In Senior year, Brett joined a hardcore band as the lead singer. He gave me one of their t-shirts (which I may/may not still own), and his wardrobe consisted entirely of skinny jeans (always cuffed), black t-shirts with various bands' names splattered across them, black vans, dark nerd-glasses, and a black hoodie with political buttons strewn about.  His love of and knowledge about music would melt my heart to this day, even though I'm not, nor was I ever, really, into his particular musical taste. He made me a mix CD before I went away to college (also which I may/may not still own and love/listen to occasionally), that I was pretty sure at the time, was as good as a promise.

There have been a LOT more scattered throughout the years, but I'm not sure I am ready just yet to air that dirty laundry. Many are to recent to fully contextualize or feel completely over just yet. Maybe next February...