Yeah, could you please give me back my gum?

I was just flipping through all the music channels on Comcast.  You know..."Classic Rock,"  "Solid Gold Oldies," Hit List," "80s," 90s.." it goes on and on.  There must be like 30 of em.  Anyways I was looking for background music and "Soft Rock" wasn't cutting it with a Dion Warwick song.  I put on the "90s" one and All 4 One was on with "I Swear."

The reason I was even looking for music was that I was sitting here about to write.  This actually is what triggered the memory I'm about to write about.

Dances.  Middle School Dances.

We would have these in junior high for 6th, 7th, and 8th graders in my school.

It was EXCLUSIVE.  Ha.  I think it was probably like $20 or $30 to obtain the coveted C.Y.O. Card.  C.Y.O. stood for (Catholic?  Christian?  Children's?) Youth Group.  I want to say Catholic but I am not positive.

C.Y.O. Card got you:
-Cheap admission to the DANCE held one Friday of each month.
-Admission to REC, which was all the other Fridays.
  -REC consisted of sitting around the basement of the church beside the school for 3  hours drinking Shasta and playing air hockey and pink pong.  Or in my case, sitting in the corner with my friends just talking   I suppose there was much more to discuss that couldn't be discussed at recess, lunch, before and after school 5 days a week during the school day.  This was when we talked about THE GOOD STUFF.
-Cool points.  Now you had more than just a library card.

That's about all it got you.  We invited nearby PUBLIC schools as well.  I don't remember if they just had to pay more and could have a card too or what.

These were the days of Starter jackets and SLAM books.  Boyfriends and girlfriends and the color teal.

The last song at the C.Y.O. dance was ALWAYS "End Of The Road" by Boys II Men.  ALWAYS.  And I would dance with Andy Blair, my very first boyfriend, in the 7th grade.

I still remember the nasty, disgusting, sloppy, spitty first kiss I ever had.  It was romantically the subject of a bet my "boyfriend" made with his BFF.  The bet was whether I'd do it or not.  His friend said no way, but he confidently said I would.  I did, I remember purely because of the peer pressure of all eyes on us in the middle of the C.Y.O. dance.   There were of course, rumors going around that he was gonna go in for one.  The nerve.

Luckily, since I knew this was a premeditated event, I was able to ask my sister just what to do.  I totally remember this conversation.  So funny how I remember it exactly:

She was in the bath tub.  There was no privacy when you lived with little Laurie.  None at all.  I would bust into the bathroom on my sister and my mom like no door existed.  Even if they locked it and wanted peace and privacy (and escape I'm sure), I would pound on the door or get my desk chair and stand on it to reach the key from over top the door.  I was relentless and magnificent at being a pest.  

Anyway, I burst through the door as usual and sat down on the rug while my poor sis sat there all exposed.  I was like 12 in 7th grade, so she must have been like 16.  She and my parents knew of my little "boyfriend" Andy.   After all, it was serious.  We'd traded Starter jacket beads and had been "going together" for months.

Here's (obviously not EXACTLY WORD FOR WORD, but much of it a damn accurate account) the conversation::

Me:  "I have a question."
Her: "What."
Me:  "About.....BOYS."
Her:  "What is it. Laurie."
Me:  "How do you french kiss a boy?"

BWAHHHH.  Her answer I remember so easily.  Well at first I think she questioned why the heck I needed to know, and I'm sure tried to deter me and said mom wouldn't approve.  Finally, she did give me this answer:

Her:  "You stick your tongue in his mouth and move it around in circles."

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

I remember how GROSSED OUT I was.  Clearly I was not ready for this.  I still secretly played Barbies.  I was nervous and nauseous at this.

Put my tongue in someone's mouf?  No fanks.


I knew my mom would murder me if she found out, which she always did about that kind of crap.  So I figured I'd get security clearance first.  Kind of like, a verbal permission slip.

So we were shopping after school one day and..

Me: "Mom..I have a question.  You will probably say no.."
Her:  "WHAT LAURIE."  No doubt she was torturing me at Walmart looking through racks in HER section of MOM clothes.
Me:  "Well....I don't want  you to say no but I have to ask it.."
Her:  "WHAT."
Me:  "Would you get mad if I kissed someone??"
Her:  "YES.......--------"

There was the seconds of it registering in her head.

Then there was discussion of how I am TOO YOUNG and DON'T LET HER HEAR ABOUT ME DOING THAT OR I WILL BE IN BIG TROUBLE MISSY.

Then I recall getting all mad and whining about it saying that I was old enough and how ___________ and ___________ were doing it and their moms didn't care.

"That's because _______________ and ______________ are too old for their britches."

That's ALWAYS what my mom would say.  She would comment that they were "too old for their britches."  I didn't understand what that meant really.  Like, I knew what she was implying, but I didn't know what britches were.  I always for some reason pictured trees.  Like ...tree BRANCHES.  That made no sense to me

Anyway, after promising her I wouldn't do it, and acknowledging that I'd be in "BIG TROUBLE," I pouted about it all the way til that Friday.

I really did not want to do it still, and yet I wanted approval from my mom.  I needed that JUST IN CASE I did it.

What do you know....here I was at the dance in the middle of "I Saw The Sun" by Ace Of Base being watched by all who were in on this little bet.  I was told he was going to do it.  My tummy was in a ball of frenzy.  I was skurd I would do it wrong.  I hadn't seen Carrie yet at this age but it was like that fear that "THEY'RE ALL GONNA LAFF AT YOU." Like..I would not be able to do it right or that my sister was wrong.

Then it happened.  I remember he grabbed my head and turned it towards his slobbery mouf.  I remember pinning my head to his shoulder during all slow songs so that I wouldn't be giving him the opportunity to hone in on me.  FAIL.

I did as my sister instructed and he did the same thing.  I remember it being like sloppy and also his tongue being all sharp and stabby-like.  I hated everything about it and was totes of not ready.  When it was over, I felt guilt settle in.

I suddenly realized that my chaperoning teachers may have seen.  MY MOTHER WOULD FIND OUT HER LITTLE GIRL WAS A SLUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Haha.

So I did what any normal 7th grader would do.

NOT.

Any normal 7th grader would keep that shit quiet.  No, any normal 7th grader would not have asked permission in the first place, and therefore wouldn't have necessarily been breaking a rule.  Most kids didn't even have those rules it seemed to me.  Looking back, I get it, but, at the time, it was the end of the world.  Everything is the end of the world when you're young.  The good things are the best in the world, and the bad things are tragic.  Such drama.

So yeah...I did what anyone would NOT do.......I told my mom everything.

My dad picked me up in our embarrassing huge brown van in front of the school for all the kids to see and me be embarrassed and yell at him when I got in to park further away .  I always pleaded with him to do this but he would show up at like 10:30 when the dances weren't over til 11 and he'd stand outside smoking a cigarette and talking to Mr. Taylor, the head of C.Y.O.

Yeah, Dad and C.Y.O. guy BFFs.  Of course this would be the case.  I'm surprised Mr. Taylor did not spread the gossip of my french floozy.

So I rode home in fear.  Intense fear.  I was already still disappointed that my first kiss was...well...disappointing.  I was also appalled that after, his friend was like "awwwwwwwwwwww shitt" and going on about losing the bet and how immediately after it was over, Andy-poo was all "I WON THE BET!!!"

Like I said, every little girl's dream.

Fear and Loathing in Glen Burnie.  I got home and waited for my Dad to go to bed.  Couldn't have Dad involved in such embarrassing antics.  Dads can't hear about kissing.  EW.

So my mom was all lounged in her usual Friday night spot on the couch watching Arsenio Hall or Love Connection or something.

Me:  "Mom, I have somethin to tell you."
Mom:  -muting the tv...she knew it was gonna be something serious-  "What?"
Me:  "I did something.  You're not gonna like it."
Mom: "WHAT ?  WHAT LAURIE.."
Me:  -crying-
Mom:  WHAT DID YOU DO LAURIE?"  -all stiffening up-

Seriously.  The way this scene was, you'd think I had been found in the middle school bathroom shooting heroin with my classmates or something.

Me:  -tears, more tears (maybe also this was added for effect so she'd be easy on me, but mostly it was genuine fear).  "I KISSED A BOY."

Mom:  "LAURIE!!!!!!!  WHAT!  OH MY GOD.."

Me:  "Please don't be mad or yell!  Don't tell Dad!"

My mom was pissed.  She pointed out that it was after she had just told me not to.  We had just had that discussion and she said "NO."
I cried and cried.  I remember sitting across from her on the loveseat in my Bugs Bunny jammies.  I mean seriously.  It was like..as if 9-11 had just happened. 

Mom: "Oh God your teachers probably saw you!!"

Of course.  If you know my mom, you will know that she is all about appearances.  She cares about how she is perceived.  How my whole family is seen, really, is very important to her.  It's like...no one is fooling anyone in this world about how things are on the inside...

No couple is perfect.
No family is perfect.
No child is perfect.
No parent is perfect.

It goes on and on.  My mom to this day maintains this fake attitude.  She is friendly to strangers and puts on a front in front of others but really is very much a judgmental and snobby woman.  I hate to say it, but it is true.  I mean the fact that I was in tears and fear of her knowing I kissed a boy.  I mean, look at me. I asked permission, then when I did end up going against a rule, I told her about it.  i think I was a pretty good kid.  That was really the WORST thing I did at that age??  I wasn't out getting preggo or bullying or doing drugs.

That got kind of surrrious for a second.

It's not like I don't disagree with parents not letting their kids be like that, I mean, a lot of little mini-sluts probably have parents that don't make rules.  Then again, there are still some that have rules and do it.  I think it has a lot to do with peers anyway.

ANYYYYYYYYYYWAYYYYYYYYYY,
My mom was disgusted with me but not as disgusted as I still was about that damn Andy and my wasted first kiss.  Every little chick wants it to be all speshual.

I honestly can say I didn't have my first REAL kiss until my current boyfriend.  I didn't meet him til I was 28, so............

There's a saying I think by Mae West?  Marilyn Monroe?  One of those hussies.  That a man's kiss is his signature.  I love that.  So totally true.  I still get all limp when I kiss my boyfriend and it's been over a year now.  Like the Dave Matthews Song on the Stand Up Album:  "The first time I kissed you I lost my legs."

Awesome.

So now there it is.  My first kiss.  One big fearful wretched sloppy bet.


As for little Andy, he ended up breaking up with me for Monica.  She was one of the first in my class to have sex with a boy.........................

I was so pissed at this affair he had been having, that I wrote her a letter telling her what a slut she was in the 7th grade.  She made copies and showed the teacher.

That was the day I learned to never write down your anger in letter form.


x........but no o