I've read a couple of other blogs that have done this fun personal time-line. Thought I would go ahead and copy. The idea comes from the book, "No One Cares What You Had For Lunch." It's a book with 100 ideas for writing blog posts. I need to see if my library carries it.
Age 3: In the first sign that I can be stubborn, my hair refuses to grow. What hair I do have is wispy and nearly blond. But really, I look almost bald. To make it even more clear that my parents should hold off entering me into any baby beauty pageants, my eyes start to ever-so-slightly cross. After a trip to the doctor's, I get my first pair of glasses.
Age 4: Riding home in the car one day, my older brother Scott's imaginary friend Sporky crosses the line. As in, the actual line we had "drawn" to mark our backseat territory. I respond by "eating" said imaginary friend by shoving handfuls of air into my mouth. Scott tried to "pull" him out, but alas, Sporky died that day.
Age 6: I convince my little brother Matthew it would be fun to open up my second-story window, then to remove the screen by pushing it out and then to throw various toys out onto the lawn. He is easily corrupted and follows my lead. We are having a ball watching Barbie fly head over heels into the bushes when the across-the-street neighbor phones my mom, who comes charging up the stairs.
Age 7: I dropped my tray in the lunch room, drawing a round of laughter. I also make friends with the foreign exchange student from Russia. That does little to swell my dim popularity.
Age 8: On the bus ride home one day, a note lands in my lap. I am wearing a white turtleneck covered in purple and blue whales. I unfold the note, which reads, "Will you go with me?" It is from a Greek boy named George who lives in my neighborhood. I have no clue where he wants to go. A friend explains he wants to be my boyfriend. I feel my cheeks blush terribly, but somehow communicate that yes, that would be OK. Our relationship was actually pretty cool. After school, we hung out, usually watching cartoons and eating Count Chocula in his basement. His mother had a darling accent. Sometimes we walked to the store to buy Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. He always hugged me good-bye.
Age 9: In fourth grade, I get my first perm. It does nothing for me. My best friend is not scared of explaining this to me. She also makes me schedule in advance what days I am going to sit next to her on the bus. She lets her other best friend have first pick. One day, when I'm sitting by myself, a boy tells me, "Don't worry Sta, all dogs go to heaven."
Age 10: In fifth grade, I date another neighborhood boy. He could do a mean Donald Duck impersonation and was a full year older because he failed a grade. We go rollerskating on Saturdays and hold hands during the couple skates. But he breaks up with me because I won't kiss him.
Age 11: In sixth grade, I get my second perm. I also go to school one day wearing lipstick as blush and eyeshadow. I get my head slammed into my locker and have to go to the Principal's office. I also break my wrist in gym class when a seventh-grader kicks a ball at my head and I try to defend myself.
Age 12: In seventh grade, I get braces. My best friend of the last 10 years starts to complain that I am clingy. I know this because when she leaves me alone in her bedroom, I read the notes she passes with other girls. That summer, she moves away. I'm devastated.
Age 13: I join the middle school newspaper and place second in a writing contest. I am pissed. I wanted first place!
Age 14: I get contacts. Suddenly, people who have made fun of me for years don't seem to notice me at all.
Age 15: The braces come off. Within weeks, a popular senior boy calls my house and then asks me out. I go into shock. We start dating. The cool girls in my grade invite me to hang out with them. I have no idea what to do with myself. Soon enough, the boy dumps me because I don't put out. A few weeks later, I start dating my best guy friend.
Age 16: A year later, I'm dumped. And for the first time, heartbroken.
Age 17: I work at the local video store with my best friend. We pass the hours by seeing who could stack the most videos up and return them without letting the stack fall over. The record is set at something like 30.
Age 19: I spend the summer working as a lifeguard at a water-park. I get to wear a whistle and yell at people to walk instead of run and sit their butts down on the rafts when they go down the slide. It's a power-trip that I throughly enjoy. In school, I switch my major to journalism. The first day of Journalism 300 class, I meet a boy named James.
Age 20: I tell James I have a crush on him. He replies that he had a crush on me last spring. On New Year's Eve, I kiss him. He tells me that he thinks he will marry me, but right now he just wants to "be friends." We continue to be "friends."
Age 21: We stop the charade and tell everyone we're together. On my birthday, I drink at least 10 shots, walk home swaying down the sidewalk saying, "I'm veering, and I can't stop," over and over. Then I throw up in the bushes, begging him not to look. He won't leave me alone.
Age 22: I graduate and start working at my current place of employment. In the spring, we get our first apartment together.
Age 23: We go to the zoo, where they are hosting a pet-adoption bonanza. From the moment we see her face in the middle of a pile of sleeping kittens, we know we've found our girl. We name her Robert Randolph the Family Cat because we are just so strange.
Age 25: Jimmy's prediction becomes true -- we get married. Something much more unexpected happens when I become one of those Christian people.
Age 27: I experience a homeowner milestone -- my first encounter with a Jehovah Witness! The woman wore a bright pink suit and carried a cane. She smelt lovely. Her hair was done up all to one side of her head. She read to me from Timothy. I told her I already read the Bible and I'm happy with my church. She thanked me for being polite and answering the door. As she walks away, I feel sort of bad for her, for trying all day to talk to people who do not want to hear from her. I realize that I will always have a tender spot for the outcasts in life. Wasn't so long ago I was firmly entrenched in those ranks.
