Anonymous Soapiness

Coming As I Am

2008-06-04T10:53:00.002-06:00

Hey! This is Dedee. I recently changed my blog from "public" status to "private" so I asked Brillig if I could post my entry for Charrette's Come As You Are game here at the anonymous soapiness site. So there I am! I just posted this one on my blog--I took it last week, as the camera is currently in NYC with Brad. It's a shot with me and my two youngest, and as I feel like the most "me" picture would include the sunglasses and the kids, then this is my offering.

Smitten

2008-03-15T09:40:00.000-06:00

Smitten (Part 1)

I met Shawn about a month after I moved to Europe to study abroad. Pathetically enough, he was actually one of the first people I really met. Don't ask me what I was doing for the first month. Recovering from jet lag, I guess. He was a "native," cute accent and all. He was also a tall blue eyed blond. Add to all this the fact that he owned a car--something that was quite the rarity in these parts--and he was pert-near perfect.

On of the first things I found out about him is that he was involved in a long-distance relationship with a girl from Utah. He confided in me that he kind of wished "she would just meet a guy back home" and dump him, as he apparently didn't really like the situation. My first words of advice was that he should dump her as quickly as possible. I was not a fan of distance relationships myself (for reasons that are an entirely different SOS story). Now at this point I was sorta kinda still in a relationship that was on the rocks, and close to ending. I told him this, and he said "so, our love lives suck, we have something in common." We hit is off quite well, and by the end of the evening I could hardly believe that we had just barely met. We even joked that we should both dump the people we were dating and date each other. However, since we were both involved with other people at the time, we didn't exchange phone numbers or anything, and so at the end of the night when we said goodbye, I had no idea when I would see him again. However, I knew that something would definitely happen between us. I was 100% sure that at some point in the future we would kiss. (In retrospect, I wonder how much of a self-fulfilling prophecy that was...) That night I could hardly sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about him.

It turned out I saw him less than a week later, when I went to help decorate for a dance that was being held for the youth. Some of my acquaintances were in charge of decorating, and I got roped in to helping out. I was more than happy to do it, since the prospect of Shawn being there was quite high. I was getting ready to hang balloons from the ceiling when he walked in. I was trying to act "cool" and not run up to him as soon as I saw him. I wanted to see if he would come talk to me. He did. He even gave me a hug. Then he proceeded to help me hang up balloons, hold the tape for me, and anything else I needed. I was enjoying the attention. After we finished decorating, we went in to another room where the kids were watching a movie, and we sat in the back and watched it. I think we were thinking more about each other than about the movie. But, since we were both "involved" with other people, nothing really happened.

For a while it stayed like that. We would only see each other when we both ended up at the same activity, which happened enough to keep me happy. We would hang out and talk a lot, but nothing more. Then I didn't see him for almost a month, and I was getting a little frustrated about it. I was starting to wonder how I could stalk him without making it too obvious--I didn't want to have to call a friend and say "hey, do you know Shawn's number?". Then, just a few days later, I noticed that he was a friend of one of my friends on Facebook. I immediately added him and sent him a message. Something along the lines of "Hey, we should hang out sometime but only as friends since we are both dating other people." Smooth, I know. Surprisingly, he actually replied and gave me his number. I gave him the number to my apartment since I didn't have a cell phone yet (very very bad for my social life, I might add). We bantered a little over Facebook messages and then switched to email since I hate Facebook. Eventually we decided to do something. We ended up watching a movie at my house. He invited Tim, one of his other friends. I was a little annoyed that it wasn't just the two of us, but it was probably good to have someone to chaperon. Shawn sat by me on the couch, and shared a blanket. By the end of the movie, we were holding hands under the blanket. So jr. high, I know. But it still made me feel excited and giddy.

I also found out that Tim and I had talked on MSN before I had moved there, when I was looking for an apartment. He had been a little offish with me at the time--I was trying to flirt a little and make friends so I would know someone when I got there, but that was obviously not on his agenda. However, in real life he was much cooler. We made plans to hang out.

I felt a little guilty about all this, due to the fact that I was still technically dating someone. However, I was vastly becoming more and more annoyed by this fact, so a week or so later when we got into a fight and he dumped me, I didn't put up much of an argument. I also called Shawn later than day and manged to work into the conversation the fact that I got dumped. You know, just so he knew I was single. He asked he if I was sad and I said "sort of."

That Sunday there was a choir concert at the church, but I didn't feel like going. I called Shawn to ask if he was going to go (really just an excuse to talk to him) and he said he didn't want to either. So he said he would come over and we could hang out instead. I was definitely up for that! He came over and we eventually decided to just drive around in his car. When we were getting in his car he said "Oh, here is an old cell phone of mine I got for you! Now all you have to do it buy a pre-paid SIM card and you will have a cell phone." Wow. He gained some MAJOR points for thoughtfulness right here. Although I'm sure he just had the ulterior motive of wanting to be able to get in touch with me better.

It was raining a little and getting dark... kind of romantic. I started bragging about how good I was at driving a stick, and he said I had to show him. I told him we had to find a side street or something because I didn't want to drive with other traffic. Seeing as how I didn't have a drivers license in that country, getting away from traffic was probably a good idea. Eventually we ended up on a small quiet road out in the middle of nowhere. He pulled over and we switched places. I drove for a little while, not doing as well with the clutch as I had thought I would, unfortunately. Then I saw headlights in the rearview mirror, and wanting to avoid other cars, I pulled off into a parking lot. I told him I was done driving, so we switched places again. Instead of starting up the car and leaving, he turned on the heater and the radio. We ended up sitting there talking for about 45 minutes, though I could tell talking was not #1 on his agenda. Somehow he managed to get his arm around me, and eventually we ended up holding hands again.

Now since I was newly single, I was not in any way hesitant about getting close. It was obvious he wanted to kiss me. We were still talking, but ended up with our heads really close together. Finally, I tired of all the games, and just leaned over a little more, with one purpose in mind. The next thing I knew we were kissing. It was a GOOD first kiss. We ended up making out for like half an hour. Then we realized how late it was, and decided we should go. On the way home, I couldn't stop looking at him. It made me smile. When we stopped at a light, he leaned over and quickly kissed me again. Finally we got to my place, and I kept starting to get out of the car, and then leaning over to kiss him one more time. He laughed and said "stop kissing me and go home now!" so I jumped out of the car and went in to my apartment. I couldn't stop smiling, and I could hardly sleep that night (again).

However, through all this, he still had his long-distance girlfriend. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized that I had become the "other woman."

To be continued...

She Blinded Me With Kindness

2008-02-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, when I was still in the armed forces, I was stationed in a large city on the east coast. I hadn't been stationed there for very long before I became acquainted with the city's nightlife, which was eclectic and abundant.

Being a single man, and something of a Jack-The-Lad in those days, I quickly found the best, ahem, hunting grounds that suited me. One such place was a dance club near a major, prestigious university, which was frequented by students and military personnel alike.

One Saturday night, I got to the club at about 9, and found it to be quite crowded already, so I ordered a drink and started to size up the action… it wasn't long before my eyes seized upon the pretty face of a young woman wearing a very nice blue dress, who was sitting with a group of three or four other young women. I waited for the next song to come on, which was a good one, as I recall, but I don't remember the name of it (hey, it ws the mid 80's, ok?). I walked up to this part of three women and asked the one in the blue dress to dance. She said that she'd love to, and said: "lead the way to the dance floor" and I was only happy to oblige. I turned and headed for the dance floor, figuring that she would be right behind me as I made a path for us through the crowd.

When I got to the dance floor, I found myself alone.

She wasn't there.

I guess it won't surprise you to hear that I was a little annoyed. Had I just been made sport of?

I went back to the bar, prepared to let it go, but decided that I wanted to know what that little prank was all about. When I approached the place where this young woman and her friends were sitting, they all got animated and their faces turned red. I walked up to little miss blue dress and said, "hey, what was that all about? Were you just messing with me, because if you didn't want to dance with me, my feelings wouldn't have been hurt if you had said no" She put her hand on my arm and smiled at me (she had a dazzling smile, and a verry bright and open face) and said, I'm sorry, but you were moving too fast for me to follow you… you have to hold my hand because I'm blind."

Oh Lord… She didn't just say she was blind, did she?

"Blind?" I managed to say… she laughed and said, "Yup, blind."

Concerned that I had just made a gigantic ass out of myself, and I attempted to sputter through an apology, but she stopped me with a laugh and told me not to worry about it. Her friends were mortified… whether it was because no one had told me, or because their friend had been left standing there, waiting for me to help her, I can't tell through the mists of time..

After all of the clarification, we had our dance, and a couple more before she and her friends left, but they didn't leave before I got her telephone umber. She was a really nice girl, and REALLY smart… she was doing an international law degree, all of which had to be read, studied, and tested either by audio or braille. We dated for a while, nothing serious, she had to spend three times as much time studying as many other students, so her free time was limited to a few hours once per week… we had fun together, and a few months later she was done with school and that was that.

No big love connection or anything like that, but together, the scorchingly hot summer of 1987 was very pleasant.

I wonder where she is now?

2008-01-26T10:47:00.000-07:00

Hey! Welcome to Anonymous Soapiness! This is the place where you can post a soapy story without having to sign your name to it--and without tarnishing your blog with silly suds. We've had a couple of people use our anonymous site so far and we'd love for more to take us up on it. Tell your friends... :-D

And without further ado, here's this week's Mr. Linky.

Forbidden...

2008-01-26T00:48:00.000-07:00

Forbidden ~~Love~~ Lust

There I was, stationed in another country... but, this time, no one was shooting at me, which was a plus.

I had seen her (let's just call her Susie, OK?) around the base over the past year, a good looking woman who was a nurse in the base hospital. I never paid much attention to her, though. Not because I wasn't interested, and not because I was seeing someone else. I hadn't paid much attention because paying said attention would have been against the rules.

You see, Susie was an officer... a Captain. I was a Corporal.

Let me explain... in the armed forces, relationships between officers and enlisted personnel aren't just frowned upon, they are forbidden. Sure, there are good reasons for this, which doesn't mean that they don't happen.

Anyway, Susie and I never did more than say hello or nod & smile at each other for many months until one summer night when the Officers club was closed for renovation and the Officers had been granted the use of our club. Susie was in the club this particular Friday night, drinking with some of her enlisted medics, when I happened to walk into the place for a wee bit of refreshment.

I stepped up to the bar, and ordered a tonic water with lime (I'm not a teetotaller, but I just wasn't drinking any booze that night), and surveyed the scene... and noticed Susie staring at me from across the room. We made eyes at each other (discreetly) for w while, and when the opportunity arose, I got the chance to have a chat with her.

To make a long story short, we discussed our long term mutual admiration and laughed about what to do about it. We concluded that if we were discreet, we might be able to... talk about it when there weren't so many people around. So we made plans. I was going to go to her place a few nights later, and she was going to make dinner... since we couldn't go out anywhere together.

On the appointed evening, at the appointed time, I went to Susie's apartment, and we ate, and laughed and talked and had a great time... then, it happened.

Susie excused herself, and went into another room. I assumed she was going to the bathroom, but when she returned, she was in a nightgown!

Whoa, dude!

She sat down on the couch (I was in a chair across the table)

***NOTE*** This is the part of the story where you might think I was about to divulge to much information about what follows, but you don't have to worry. You see, at the time of this incident, I was only twenty, and not really much of a man of the world.

So... Susie comes back into the room and sits down, while I was thinking "Oh no! I have over-stayed my welcome! I need to make a quick exit!" I thought that she was trying to tell me that she needed to go to bed... um, to go to SLEEP

So I made some quick excuses, and beat a hasty retreat, feeling all the while that I had made an a$$ out of myself.

I was right. I had made an a$$ out of myself... but not for the reason that I thought.

When I saw Susie a couple of days later, we had a moment to talk and she asked me what she had done wrong. I was busy apologizing for staying too long, and for not being considerate about her time.

We planned to meet again, and we did... but nothing came of it, since we knew that we couldn't ever go anywhere together, and it wouldn't be good for her career if it were to ever get out.

So, what might have been an interesting um... friendship, turned into another year of nodding and smiling (and saluting) without ever saying anything other than "good afternoon, ma'am" followed by "carry on, Corporal". She returned to the states after that year, and that was that.

So there is my story of potential conquest, gone wrong. I have more than one of those, so stay tuned.

...And Then There Was Meghan

2008-01-20T07:20:00.001-07:00

After I separated from my first wife, and before I met the woman I would later marry, I dated some, but not much, because not terribly long after the separation/divorce, I met Meghan.

I met Meghan at the same government agency I was later to meet my wife, but the stories don't intersect... I didn't have the time, inclination, or money to play the field like that.

Meghan was a sweet girl, about 4 years younger than me... she was about 5' 4" and explosively curvaceous. A real looker.
We met, chatted a few times, and when I would see her, she would smile at me... and blush. Not being a particularly stupid man, I knew there was interest... which I returned.

We I started flirting with her to beat the band, and it wasn't long after that we started dating. We dated exclusively, and spent a lot of time together as new couples tend to do, and were having a great time... but there were some problems.

As much as I thought that I had completely worked through mu divorce, I hadn't. There were custody/visitation issues that regularly turned into battles. There was that fact that child support, which I never missed paying, even before it was court ordered, was keeping me in Jesuit-like poverty. To say that I had some hostility to get through would have been more than accurate.

Meghan had her own issues to deal with as well... she was never sure about how I felt about her, even though I regularly told her of my love. Worse, she was very unsure of herself, physically. The poor girl's self esteem was wrapped up in the fact that her mother had been a dancer in her youth, and still had a dancer's figure, as did two of her three sisters. Despite my assurances of her beauty (and I kid you not, she was a head-turner), she never quite believed it about herself, so she needed constant reassurance.

Meghan and I were together for nearly three years, and while we were pretty good together, the other stuff got in the way. It led to unhappiness, because I couldn't make her feel better about herself, no matter how I tried... and she couldn't help me get over my issues with my ex-wife. Suffice it to say, we were doomed..

Eventually, we broke up. It was really sad because we loved each other... we kept in touch from a great distance. I healed, she did , too. I got married, and so did she. I saw her downtown, once, about three years after I got married... she was beautiful. I was pleased for her when she had gotten her professional credentials as an interior designer. I was sorry for her when she divorced. I was pleased for her when I heard about her new job at the Pentagon, where she was working at redesigning one of the wings of the building. I was sick with grief on 9/11, when that damned airplane crashed into the building... the wing she was working in. I was overjoyed when I found out, two months later, that she had quit that job scant weeks before the attack. Again, I was happy for her when she met, and later married, a nice man who is making her very happy.

I hear from Meghan about once a year.

It makes me smile.

***NOTE*** It makes me smile because I am happy for her... she is a good person who would never hurt a soul. I have no romantic designs, so tsk tsk if you were thinking that.

His Mother Was Mad!

2008-01-19T12:04:00.000-07:00

Hey, all! It's Brillig. I want to warmly welcome a NEW Anonymous Soapiness poster. I hope you will give her all a warm welcome! If any of you have anonymous posts that you'd like to submit, just leave a comment here or at mine or Kate's blogs, and we'll hook you up. :-D
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His Mother Was Mad

I was talking to my father and mentioned I had run
into Jacob.

Jacob was a year older than me in high school. He
hung out with mutual friends of mine. He was tall and
thin. He was sweetly goofy. He went off to an
in-state college. A year later I attended college in
another state then didn't really return for several
years. I lost touch with those friends and didn't
know what had become of him.

About 5 or 6 years ago a tall, handsome man came up to
me. It was the beginning of the work day and when he
said my name, I recognized the voice immediately.
Jacob was living in the same town as me, married to a
school teacher. They had several children. While he
was clearly a man, and not a teenager, his sweet
goofiness was still there.

For several years our early morning routine meant we
crossed paths and we would talk about people from high
school, our kids' exploits, work, my pregnancy and his
wife's a year later. Then his hours changed and we
stopped seeing each other.

I told my dad that I ran into Jacob and his kids over
the holidays. It was the first time I had seen his
since the spring.

"His mother was so pissed when you turned him down for
a date" was my father's reply.

"Whaaaaaaaa?" was my inarticulate response.

I don't think I had ever met Jacob's mother. I
wouldn't know her if she came up to me. I knew that
she didn't run in the same circles as my parents. It
was simply beyond comprehension that my father would
have a conversation with Jacob's mother.

"She called me after Jacob had called to ask you out"
he explained. "You just broke his heart and she
called me to complain."

My father had never, ever told me this.

Worse. I don't remember the phone call from Jacob
asking me out. It wasn't like I was getting these
calls with any frequency. In fact almost never. I
would think this type of call would be memorable to an
infrequent high school dater like me.

So after all these year, does Jacob remember calling
me?

And does he know his mother called my father?

How We Met

2008-01-05T15:02:00.000-07:00

Some of you are old enough to remember the first gulf war (well, technically, the second Gulf War, since the first was between Iran and Iraq, but you know what I mean).

Those of you that remember it, might also remember that for some time after the liberation of Kuwait, there was a huge push by the United States and other nations to find a lasting peace in the middle east between the various Arab states and Israel.

The large-scale peace talks that took place in Washington, DC, took place at the United States Department of State, where I was then employed as a security supervisor. I was the commander of the unit that did security for special events where senior diplomats and politicians would be on site. As you can imagine, the ministerial meetings that took place had VIP's in abundance... many of whom would speak to the press which were always corralled by the main entrance to the building.

The State Department press office, not wanting to ever get caught unawares, always kept a public affairs officer with the press in order to record any comments made y an arriving or departing dignitary. This is where our story begins.

One of my people, who was frequently posted in the front of the building, was... shall we say, less than stellar in the performance of his duties, needed frequent monitoring to make sure that he he was doing his job, instead of spending all of his time chatting up the pretty girls. Being his direct supervisor, that responsibility fell to me. On more than one occasion, I had to tell him to stop bothering the Press officer that was outside with the Press pool, since she seemed to be spending her down time quietly reading..

After having to talk to him a third time, I apologized to the press officer, and attractive woman, wearing a blue floral print dress. She smiled and said not to worry about it, as he wasn't being disrespectful or anything.

Well I would see this Press officer from time to time, in the lobby of the building and make small talk, with her, and after a while, instead of chatting whenever I would see her, I started looking for her intentionally.

When the Peace Talks were coming to a close, I asked her what she usually did with herself when she wasn't working, and she told me that she didn't usually do much, so I sad, oh-so-smoothly, that since I didn't do much either, maybe we could not do much together sometime. Yes, I know, it was kinda lame, and although she had to stifle a laugh, it worked.

We arranged to have our first date, the night before Thanksgiving, 1992.

She lived in Rosslyn (Va), and I lived on Captiol Hill, so I took the metro (Washington's subway) and she met me there... we walked to her apartment to kill some time before going to the movies (we were going to see Bram Stoker's Dracula), and it was pretty much over.

Her apartment walls were lined with bookshelves!

We shared a bottle of wine, then a second, while we talked about books.

We missed the first showing of the movie, and the second showing. We had a grand old time... by the time I made the move to leave, the metro had stopped running. Rather than send me off in a cab, this fine soul gave me a ride home... but not before we had our first kiss, standing next to her car.

I was done in. Right there, right then.

When she dropped me at my apartment, I went in and immediately called her at home and left a message on her machine... apparently, it was very romantic.

I got very little sleep that night.

You know that semi-sick to your stomach feeling you get with new love? I had that all day at work, and despite the fact that I was trying to be the gruff boss, one of my guys said: "Geez Lieutenant, what's up with you?, you've been grinning all morning, and I don't think that I have ever seen you smile"

Well... there isn't much else to say, other than that I married that nice lady in 1994. I knew that I would, from the first time I kissed her.

As I write this, she is suffering with a bit of a cold and is ~~snoring~~ napping away just down the hall... we are both starting to get gray now, but I still love her as much as I did on our first date.

Sonja

2007-12-16T00:13:00.000-07:00

Flash Forward from last week's entry... the year is now 1984. I am still overseas at an American base in Europe.

I met a young woman (well, we were all young in those days, weren't we?) named Sonja.

Sonja was a cook in the base dining facility... she was a sergeant and I was a corporal... She was a beautiful girl, and I was... well I was this studly young thing of nearly 21 years of age.

I would see her when I took my meals, and we would chat, and smile at each other. Either my friends were around or hers were, so we didn't get much opportunity to talk. Until that great summer afternoon when I was with my buddy, Dave, who said "I'm going to wait for you outside, man, you need to go talk to her alone!" She smiled and said that it was nice of my friend to give us a minute to talk... I agreed and wasted no time in asking her out.

We went to see some odd movie that I don't remember at all. After the movie, we went to her apartment and talked about music and then...

and then...

And then I went back to my own apartment around eleven o'clock! (Hey, if you were looking for the salacious, you'll have to wait, there was none of that with this girl)

We saw each other two days later, and went out for a drink, and laughed like there was no tomorrow. We had sparks. We had physical attraction (oh Lord was she built!), but there was something missing. She knew it too. We never dated again, but we remained friends for several year and assignments afterwards.

It was the weirdest thing ever. She was hot!

I was pretty hot back then, too!

I mean... there should have been something, right? I don't mean just sex... but something romantic, right?

Jeez.

Well, 23 years later, I don't know what happened that night, but it makes me smile anyway.

Fire and Desire

2007-12-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

So... there I was: All of 17 years old, out of boot camp and at a training base. No more New Jersey. No more mom telling me what to do, and no Drill instructors making my life difficult. My days still belonged to Uncle Sam, but I was on my own after working hours.

I was 17. I didn't have a car. What I DID have, was a large military installation with a large Enlisted Club. Now this was back in the days when it didn't matter what the drinking age was in the state you were in... if you were on base, and old enough to get blown away in the name of Uncle Sam, you were old enough to knock back a few drinks at the club.

Guess what I did on most Friday nights?

One Friday night, my friends and I were about ready to head back to the barracks for the night when some song or another came on, and one of the guys HAD to go and have one more dance... we told him we'd wait in the lobby. While we waited, I met... HER, She was a beautiful girl... woman (as it turned out she was an older woman, all of twenty years old, my lifelong love of older women had begun).

Maria was pretty, friendly, chatty, and really really nice. After about twenty minutes of conversation (I told my friends they could bail without me), Rick James & Tina Marie's song; "Fire and Desire" came on. I asked Maria to dance and that sealed the deal. We were inseparable from that night on. (no, not that way, she was very serious about not doing the horizontal bop until she was married, which was cool with me)

Maria and I saw each other once a week, usually on Wednesday, and we would go to the movies or things like that, and then hang out together on Friday nights, and on Saturdays... I was in love. Flat -out. I had that stars in the eyes flip-flopping stomach, the whole shootin' match. After a couple of months, I met her parents, who seemed to like me well enough... I was the same age as Maria's younger brother, Henry.

Things were moving quite well, but since they were, Uncle Same decided that my service was needed in another country. ****!

When I was reassigned, I told Maria, and we shared some tears, but resolved to do something about it. I had turned 18 a few weeks after we met, and I was a man of the world! (or so I thought). I asked Maria to marry me, and she said that she would. I got on an airplane two days later, and as soon as I got where I was going, I wrote to Maria to reconnect. She was glad to hear from me... so she said.

For the first two months, our letters were frequent... and long. We wrote of love and devotion and all of that stuff. We were realistic enough to know that we should wait a while before the actual marriage, but alas, it was not to be.

Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but it also make people lonely. I started getting fewer and fewer letters... and the next thing you know, I got THE letter. Oh, yeah... you know what that letter was, don't you. It was the dreaded "Dear John" letter. Apparently, she had met someone else, and she wanted to tell me right away ... blah, blah, "...sorry to hurt you" blah blah "I really think you are a great guy" blah blah

I was pretty angry, but I decided not to take it to my grave. I put all of the things that Maria had ever sent to me, in a box, and mailed them back to her without including a nasty letter.

I don't wonder where she is, and I don't ever wonder what we could have had together. I was 18... I had lot's of living to do.... but, even now, more than 20 years later, whenever I hear that Rick James - Tina Marie song, I smile. I smile. I smile because it is a memory of a very sweet and loving time, when I had certain feeling for the first time in my life.

Love should make you feel good. Shouldn't it?

Julie--The Final Chapter

2007-12-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

Our story thus far,

Julie meets your correspondent in 1979, they date. She is his first "real girlfriend"

Julie and I have a significant moment (well, it was for me) on my sixteenth birthday.

I break up with Julie in the fall of 1980.

I leave town for military service in 1981.

I return home for the first time in 1985.

Julie hears that I am home. Attempts reunification. Is rebuffed like nobody's business.

I return to the Fleet.

All caught up? Good

Fast forward... no really forward. Beyond Star Trek, The Next Generation. Beyond the entire run of Seinfeld. Beyond Ronald Reagan's second term, George Bush's (1st) term, beyond both of Bill Clinton's termas, and the first term of Bush (2nd)....

The year: 2006

The Place: Well. where I live (thought I was going to cough that up, didn't you, SMID!)

I was checking my email one day, when I got an email. An email from one of those class reunion websites. I had registered at a couple of them a few years ago, just in case any old friends needed or wanted to find me. Well, this particular email was from someone that fit into that category.

Yes, it was Julie. She had found me, once again.

She told me that she lived in my area now... (nearly 300 miles from the town we grew up in), and had heard I was in this area (good Lord). She asked about my life etc... and asked if she could call me. Well, I should have known better, but I was sort of anxious to find out how she was doing and all of the, so we set a time to talk on the phone.

We had a fine conversation full of the usual "what have you been doing?" etc...

After about 20 minutes of catching up about my first marriage, my divorce, my career, her career and family... we move right into "so, are we going to see each other?" To which I replied and emphatic no! She asked me why and I told her plainly, that it would lead somewhere that it shouldn't. I told her that was inappropriate to meet with any woman that I had previously seen naked and fondly remembered it (TMI?).

She was irritated and proceeded to tell me how I shouldn't make those sorts of logical leaps... "I'm not after you!" etc..... I assumed the guilt of having said no and blamed it on the fact that I might still have the hots for this woman 21 years after the last time I laid eyes on her... but the truth is, I didn't. I didn't and don't have the hots for this woman. I didn't want to see her because I think she has potential for being a "crazed-stalker-who-boils-rabbits" kind of person, and God knows I don't need that.

Julies was only half-sane when we were in high school.

I wonder if she has been committed yet.

Julie and Me--An Interlude

2007-11-24T10:45:00.000-07:00

Ready for the next chapter in the Julie story?

Our story thus far:

Julie and I er... got together in the fall of 1979. We broke up in the fall of 1980. I graduated from high school in June of 1981, and entered active duty in the Marines the following September.

During my first (of two) enlistment(s), I spent 90 percent of my time overseas. During my travels, which included a combat tour of duty in Beirut, Lebanon (forgot about that one, did you?).

After nearly four years away from home, I returned to my hometown, a seasoned old veteran of 21 years of age... I was going to be home for nearly a month, which gave me lots of time to see my old friends, which was not nearly as much fun as I thought it would be, because I had changed quite a bit.

Anyway, it was good to be home, and word got around rather quickly that I had come back to town.

One night, while I was watching TV, our front doorbell rang. Anyone care to guess who was there when I opened the door?

If you guessed "Julie" you would be correct.

She had heard that I was home... and wanted to see me.

Hm. Since my mother was hovering, Julie and I went for a ride... and talked.... No, really, we just talked. Julie let me know that she had missed me and wanted to get back together. She was rather, um.. forward about it... and was unamused when I told her, unequivocally "fat chance".

She drove me back to my mother's house in near silence.

That was in 1985.

Next week: Julie, thef inal chapter (or Julie and the time capsule)

Hosting SOS!

2007-11-17T00:19:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Anonymous Soapiness! This is the site where you can post your Soap Opera Sunday anonymously (you are welcome to sign it with a link to your regular blog, or keep it completely anonymous!) and to draw attention to this site, which was widely requested but has so far only been used by one participant, we decided to host SOS this week! So, here we are! If you, or someone you know, would like to utilize this SOS feature, please let us know, either by leaving a comment here, or by contacting Kateastrophe or Brillig directly.

(For info/rules about SOS, please read here).

If you're playing SOS this week, please enter your Soap Opera Sunday link here! Happy Soaping!

How Not to Break Up WIth Your Girlfriend

2007-11-07T08:55:00.000-07:00

(This is a continuation of this post.)

So... there I was in the fall of 1980, having been with Julie for nearly a year.

In her mind things were going swimmingly. We did things together, but because she lived on the other side of town, I rarely saw her on the weekend (neither of us had a car). Since my weekend were my own, I usually hung out with my friends. For us, hanging out meant scoring some beer and being teen aged boys. We weren't wild by any stretch, but we had fun, at times, that might make a parent raise their eyebrows.

On Monday mornings, I would get the third degree about what I did with my "hoodlum friends"... at first I laughed it off, I continued to laugh it off until the questioning became more than I was comfortable with. Eventually, I got really tired of it.

Julie had wanted to be a cheerleader, but didn't make the team. She wound up on that third (or fourth) tier of pep squad activities known as the color guard... you know white pom pom boots, weird looking hats and those spinning rifles? You get the picture. Well, I would go to some of our basketball games.... not because I liked basketball (I don't) but because the Color Guard would perform at half-time, and Julie and I could be together while the game was on.

Well, she knew that things were tense between us, and we had had a few ugly arguments, but what came next at this particular game was a spectacular example of stupidity on my part... and generally, I like to believe that I'm not stupid.

But...

Right after the halftime show one evening, while we were sitting a scant few feet from a whole knot of her friends, Julie flat out asked me what was going on, and I told her that I was tired of her nagging about my friends, and trying to control me. I further told her to give my class ring back, while I handed hers back to her (it was hanging on a chain around my neck).

Wham

Bam

That's it. We're done. No prolonged drama. A weight off of my shoulders.

Done... clean, with no muss, right?

Ha!
Julie started to cry. Not just weeping... not silent tears of hurt. No, this was full on bawling. Blubbering. Loud tears and just freakin' awful.

Everyone on the Home side of the bleachers was starting.

All of her friends immediately turned on me and loudly demanded to know what I had said to her.

I could see the rest of my high school romantic life evaporating before my eyes.

So what did I do? I'll tell you what I did... I collected myself, put my class ring back on my finger, put on my jacket, and walked out of the gym without a backward glance.

As it happens, Julie's friends weren't as horrified as they made out... one of her friends (and neighbor) was named Sissy... guess who my next girlfriend was?

A button! A button! We've got a button!

2007-10-30T17:07:00.001-06:00

Here is the new, official SOS button!

My First Kiss

2007-10-27T16:26:00.000-06:00

(Note from Brillig: This is the first time a man has played Soap Opera Sunday! Let's all give him a warm welcome!!!)

This post was written by Anonymous.

1t was 1979, I was a sophomore in high school, and her name was Julie.

She was in my homeroom class, as we both have last names that start with J. I talked to her a lot, because her seat was so close to mine. She was ok.

Julie and I shared another class, 3rd period chorus. We both liked to sing obviously, so it gave us something in common.

I was a bookworm in those days (well, I still am), and while not unpopular, I certainly wasn't the boy that all the girls were paying attention to (and I'm still not), I was extremely flattered. Well, one thing led to another and I started finding reasons to be where she was going to be.

Julie was older than me (I was 15... she was 16), and caught on, aster than I probably would have liked, to the fact that I "liked" her. So, one day, while she waited for the bus home (I waited with her, even though I walked to school), we had one of those quiet autumn moments on a crisp November day, and I moved in for the kill. I kissed that girl for all I was worth (which wasn't a whole lot, as I had never really kissed a girl before). don't know if she was swooning, or if it was just me, but I like to think I did a good job of it.

Julie was my first girlfriend. She gave me my first real kiss.

On my sixteenth birthday, the following month, she gave me something else that I had never had before.

Do you remember that song, "Babe", by Styx? Well, I remember it. Vividly.

I'm not bloody likely to forget it.

Welcome to Anonymous Soapiness!

2007-10-27T12:49:00.000-06:00

Hi, all! This is Brillig and Kate speaking! Welcome to Anonymous Soapiness, the place where you can post a Soap Opera Sunday without worrying about your mom reading it! Read more about this here!