Dear Diary - The Story of Christine

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11803058.post-52238001194807529762008-05-10T11:36:00.000-05:002008-05-10T08:39:35.456-05:00Dear Diary - The Story of Christine<img style="margin: 0pt 10px 0px 0pt; float: left;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vhbFEcfjqy4/SCOP9aryakI/AAAAAAAACSw/74Xpw0CaioA/s200/diary7.jpg" alt="" />The following contains excerpts from an old diary I wrote when I was 18. Although the stories in this series are true, I hereby claim no responsibility for the maturity of the material written during that time. If you've been following my <a href="http://www.viewfromthecloud.com/search/label/Diary" target="_blank">Dear Diary series</a>, you'll remember that when last we met, I ended with a passage that proclaimed my love for some girl named Christine. <table style="background: rgb(220, 220, 220) none repeat scroll 0% 50%; width: 580px; height: 72px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="center" border="1" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="2"><tbody><tr><td>...The first thing is "old cupid" has struck me down. Her name is Christine and she's wonderful...</td></tr></tbody></table> Now, I've written some pretty embarrassing things about myself on this blog over the last 2 1/2 years, but I think I ought to tell you... this entry makes me want to change my name and enlist in witness protection until this cloud of shame blows over. It's not that what I wrote is so embarrassing in terms of the words themselves, but more in terms of how incredibly ignorant I was for an 18 year old. After reading this, I consider it a miracle I ever advanced to the stage of actually dating women, let alone marriage and procreation. Anyway, here is the entry of when I met Christine. But because it's too painful to simply publish as it was written, I'll need to hide behind some smart-assed commentary as well. You'll find that in red. Enjoy. <table style="background: rgb(220, 220, 220) none repeat scroll 0% 50%; width: 580px; height: 72px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="center" border="1" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="2"><tbody><tr><td>... lucky me. The first thing is “old cupid” has struck me down. Her name is Christine and she’s wonderful. She started working at Cloud 9 last Fri and naturally I wanted to help her out and get to know her. <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vhbFEcfjqy4/SCRa8V9Ji0I/AAAAAAAACTA/-koI6Ls-eYM/s1600-h/diary10.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vhbFEcfjqy4/SCORM6ryalI/AAAAAAAACS4/C97gXazDXck/s400/diary10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198379862624668482" border="0" /></a>click image to display remainder of story </div> So later on we talked and BS’d about Cloud 9 and when we did we both noticed it. (the happy dance in my pants) It seems like love at first sight but it’s more than that. We talked so freely and listened so intently to each other it was great. On the same wavelength, we talked a little about Sleeper and I told her she could buy a tee-shirt for a couple of bucks (smooth, charge her for a gift... women love that) and she was thrilled. I said she’d have to be a fan of ours if she wore it (wet) and she insisted she wouldn’t miss a gig. Then her boyfriend (I heard engaged but I’m not sure (don't care) yet) came and picked her up. It was ok though – we liked each other (uh... me and the girl, not the boyfriend) - that’s what really counted. But – Today – I went to work and saw her in the window – waving and she said “I missed you”, oh, she said “hi” before that. No Shit. I couldn’t believe it. She’s sooo nice (gee Wally, shucks). I gave her the shirt and she soaked it up – I told her it was “on me” (but was thinking "off her") and she loved it. Then this – “Jeff, I hope I’m not being too forward but if you’d like to go out and have a drink sometime just give me a call.” (schwing!) And she gave me her number, and address – this was in case I was ever in the neighborhood (doing my paper route) I could stop in – “I have some alcohol or something too (really? she thought that was necessary to seal the deal?) – a nice warm fire” – I love it – I think I’m in love. (note to self: must start picking out baby names now) But once again – woe is me – I don’t even know why I’m writing this because in a few weeks it’ll probably be all over with anyhow. (enter mr. self esteem) 1st – I can’t figure out why she’s coming on so strong when she’s got a steady lover (or whatever he is) (transportation?) . And second, (the story of my life) – She’s 2 years older than me. (God. No!) I don’t have any idea why but when she asked, I told her I was 20. (because you're an idiot?) Now when I call her on Sun, I’ll have to tell her I’m only 18. What a drag – why can’t I be 20? (or at least 18 1/2) It happens all the time – I fall in love with beautiful girls (in the magazines) 2 or 3 years older than me who all are going to get married. All with the best possible personalities you can imagine (read... willing to talk to me) – and I end up dry every time. Well, not every time. (insert your own joke here) I hope it works out for us – I don’t want her to end anything serious with her boyfriend either just because of me. (*snort* oh please) What if we don’t work out (ya think?) – I don’t know, I’ll have to talk to her about it. But I still Love It! </td></tr></tbody></table> So there you have it. My confession of undying eternal love for a woman I have... uh - no recollection of today. It's so hard to believe she wasn't the "one." Damn - and we were SO meant for each other! One thing you may find hard to believe though... as of the time of this journal entry, I had not yet even made it to 2nd base with a girl. Or is it 3rd base? Or right field? How the hell would I know, I never even played baseball. And how is this possible for an 18 year old you ask? What, you didn't read the entry above? Hello! <div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * I heard Christine is waiting for you with a warm fire and some alcohol at <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://humor-blogs.com/" target="_blank">humor-blogs.com</a> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11803058-5223800119480752976?l=www.viewfromthecloud.com'/></div>Jeffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13868852480996815442noreply@blogger.com44