(Pronounced like this. Stupid spelling, I know)
Maryiah and I dated for a couple of weeks in Junior high. She was my first taste of ethnic lady, and let me say I was hooked. She was fly-er than Mark McGrath with a booty from heaven.
Unfortunately, we only got to spend time together in school, so we never really got a chance to really hang out. We wrote notes to each other all the time (obviously) but never really got to spend any REAL one-on-one time together. One time we were in the library sitting in the racecar you could read books in when she tried to kiss me, but in my youthful ignorance, didn't realize till later that a sweet piece of tongue action could have been mine.
As the relationship progresses (and this was a lengthy one by 7th grade standards), our notes became more and more graphic. At one point we were writing about whipped cream, honey, and cherries, because of a sex scene I saw on the late, great Nash Bridges program.
Inevitably, my parents found these notes, along with my steamy cards from the Renaissance Festival Kiss Cards. Because of all the lewd-ity in the small pocket of my Jansport, I wasn't allowed to see Maryiah anymore. The lack of smooching combined with the difficulty of weaseling my way into a situation where I COULD actually smooch with my lady convinced me to actually put up with their guidance and break up with Maryiah.
For some reason this was completely devastating to Maryiah and she never wanted to see me again. It wasn't for a whole month that we finally had contact where instead of speaking to me, she handed me a note. Excited to see where this was going, I ran to the bathroom and opened it up. It wasn't long, but got the point across well.
"Daniel,
I still hate you, but I don't want you to think it's your fault I'm a lesbian now. I will always love you."
I know now the note doesn't make any sense, but my reaction made even less. For some reason in my 12 year old head, the knowledge that I had in some way contributed to two girls kissing was enough for me. I dubbed myself a sex god.
4.2.09
1.10.08
Little Tim Kisses Again
This would have been Tim's first kiss if my mom hadn't been so quick to get away.
In 3rd grade, I proposed to Anna Foret at the water fountain. She said yes, so instead of hanging out, we both awkwardly ran off to tell our friends. Everyone was elated to hear the news. There hadn't been a good engagement at all this year, and this was right in time for winter to start rearing its head, so it just felt right.
We walk out to the soccer field followed by (what I remember being) a crowd of cheering pre-adolescents. We strut in long strides, holding each others' hands, but looking straight ahead. I thought I would melt.
When we get to the middle of the field, we look at each other and almost instantaneously both realize we have no idea what comes next. Bill, the class clown, steps up and says "You guys are going to have to french kiss. That's what adults do."
All the boys and girls start screaming and split off into respective gender groups to find out if any other of the boys and girls actually knows what a french kiss is. One guy thought it was where you flutter your eyelids together, one guy thought it was where you hold hands and both blow into the chamber the hand-holding made, but Bill actually knew what it was: kissing with tongue.
As we reconvene, my heart is racing. I don't think I'd kissed anyone more than twice, much less with my tongue, and I'm pretty sure I didn't understand or even want a tongue on me. Anna and I look into each others eyes and both sigh deeply. Bill jabs me. "Get on with it, man!"
I close my eyes and lean in for the kiss. I lick something, but it doesn't feel like skin, so I open my eyes to see the back of her shirt as she's running away. If I knew who Richard Gere was, I'd probably feel a lot like him.
When I get home, my mother asks me how my day was. Showing off, I said "Great! I french kissed Anna Foret and we're married now!"
My mom immediately starts laughing. "Do you even know what a French Kiss is?"
I respond: "Of course, mom. I'm not a Kindergartner."
She looks a little worried, then sees through my lie, and keeps playing along. "Tell me what it is, then, Romeo."
My brother, hearing this entire conversation, is in agony; unable to wait for me to explain, he runs to my mother and screams "Let it out, mom! What is it?"
My mother sits us down and explains: "When two people love each other very much, they kiss with tongue to show their love. Now, whether or not Daniel actually did this is a mystery, but I don't think he and Anna have known each other long enough to actually do this, so I HOPE he's doing a little bit of fibbing."
Tim thinks about this for a second, while my mom is still leaned down next to him and takes the initiative. He screams "I LOVE YOU MOM," and hurls his tongue toward her.
She stands up, only to have her knee licked, then falls down in a fit of laughter. Both relieved and humored, she screams "John!" and runs upstairs to tell my father.
In 3rd grade, I proposed to Anna Foret at the water fountain. She said yes, so instead of hanging out, we both awkwardly ran off to tell our friends. Everyone was elated to hear the news. There hadn't been a good engagement at all this year, and this was right in time for winter to start rearing its head, so it just felt right.
We walk out to the soccer field followed by (what I remember being) a crowd of cheering pre-adolescents. We strut in long strides, holding each others' hands, but looking straight ahead. I thought I would melt.
When we get to the middle of the field, we look at each other and almost instantaneously both realize we have no idea what comes next. Bill, the class clown, steps up and says "You guys are going to have to french kiss. That's what adults do."
All the boys and girls start screaming and split off into respective gender groups to find out if any other of the boys and girls actually knows what a french kiss is. One guy thought it was where you flutter your eyelids together, one guy thought it was where you hold hands and both blow into the chamber the hand-holding made, but Bill actually knew what it was: kissing with tongue.
As we reconvene, my heart is racing. I don't think I'd kissed anyone more than twice, much less with my tongue, and I'm pretty sure I didn't understand or even want a tongue on me. Anna and I look into each others eyes and both sigh deeply. Bill jabs me. "Get on with it, man!"
I close my eyes and lean in for the kiss. I lick something, but it doesn't feel like skin, so I open my eyes to see the back of her shirt as she's running away. If I knew who Richard Gere was, I'd probably feel a lot like him.
When I get home, my mother asks me how my day was. Showing off, I said "Great! I french kissed Anna Foret and we're married now!"
My mom immediately starts laughing. "Do you even know what a French Kiss is?"
I respond: "Of course, mom. I'm not a Kindergartner."
She looks a little worried, then sees through my lie, and keeps playing along. "Tell me what it is, then, Romeo."
My brother, hearing this entire conversation, is in agony; unable to wait for me to explain, he runs to my mother and screams "Let it out, mom! What is it?"
My mother sits us down and explains: "When two people love each other very much, they kiss with tongue to show their love. Now, whether or not Daniel actually did this is a mystery, but I don't think he and Anna have known each other long enough to actually do this, so I HOPE he's doing a little bit of fibbing."
Tim thinks about this for a second, while my mom is still leaned down next to him and takes the initiative. He screams "I LOVE YOU MOM," and hurls his tongue toward her.
She stands up, only to have her knee licked, then falls down in a fit of laughter. Both relieved and humored, she screams "John!" and runs upstairs to tell my father.
29.9.08
Mike
It's not till a friend sees your 5 year old brother's tiny penis that they become a best friend. This was most definitely the case with Mike. When I lived in the woodlands, I only had one friend. His name was David. His extended family would have once-a-month b-b-q's where they would drag the piano to the back porch while the grandmother sang old blues songs while everyone danced and laughed at how white I was. David had an outie belly button, so for years I thought that all black boys had outies. Turns out, I was wrong.
When David moved away, I was devestated. I was in first grade with no one to play four square with. What was I supposed to do? Enter Mike.
Just imagine the heavy kid from a kids sports movie. It doesn't matter which one, this was mike. He was wearing a cardinals jersey, a backwards cap with a tuft of hair sticking through it, cut off shorts and Fila shoes (which until recently I believed were called FILS because of this logo). My kinda guy, amirite?
So Mike lives down the street, but within sight of my house. After watching TGIF one night at his house, I get up to go home and say bye to Mike and his mom. They stand on the porch, snickering quietly as I turn away from my house and start walking down the street.
"Come on..." I hear Mike yelling to me. I turn around and realize I would have been REALLY LOST had I continued on my path. We walk to my house discussing at great length the differences between Chocolate Soldier and Yoo-Hoo. I'm not sure, but I think Chocolate Soldier won.
Having just obtained a new Dinobot toy, I invite Mike in to check out the wares. We sit down in the living room and pit his Megazord toy versus my Dinobot in some kind of All-Star duel from Jesus Christ himself.
All the sudden, I hear Tim scream "I'm STRONG BOY" (a phrase he stole from my sister, that's a whole other story altogether) and come running down the stairs, butt-ass-naked. He's bouncing up and down, letting his ding-dang flop like a fairy stuck in a lantern. He's crawling around, showing us everything he's got going on. He's trying to hug Mike and I, but we won't have it.
We run outside and Mike says "Man, your brother's weird." That was the last time we ever spoke of naked Timmy again. Until now.
When David moved away, I was devestated. I was in first grade with no one to play four square with. What was I supposed to do? Enter Mike.
Just imagine the heavy kid from a kids sports movie. It doesn't matter which one, this was mike. He was wearing a cardinals jersey, a backwards cap with a tuft of hair sticking through it, cut off shorts and Fila shoes (which until recently I believed were called FILS because of this logo). My kinda guy, amirite?
So Mike lives down the street, but within sight of my house. After watching TGIF one night at his house, I get up to go home and say bye to Mike and his mom. They stand on the porch, snickering quietly as I turn away from my house and start walking down the street.
"Come on..." I hear Mike yelling to me. I turn around and realize I would have been REALLY LOST had I continued on my path. We walk to my house discussing at great length the differences between Chocolate Soldier and Yoo-Hoo. I'm not sure, but I think Chocolate Soldier won.
Having just obtained a new Dinobot toy, I invite Mike in to check out the wares. We sit down in the living room and pit his Megazord toy versus my Dinobot in some kind of All-Star duel from Jesus Christ himself.
All the sudden, I hear Tim scream "I'm STRONG BOY" (a phrase he stole from my sister, that's a whole other story altogether) and come running down the stairs, butt-ass-naked. He's bouncing up and down, letting his ding-dang flop like a fairy stuck in a lantern. He's crawling around, showing us everything he's got going on. He's trying to hug Mike and I, but we won't have it.
We run outside and Mike says "Man, your brother's weird." That was the last time we ever spoke of naked Timmy again. Until now.
12.9.08
Tim and Staci
I remember my brother's first kiss better than he does.
I suppose this starts the fateful winter day when Brian and Jacob move in across the street from me. Chris Chambers, whose mother is a clown, and I are discussing at great length Amy Jo Johnson's best assets when a moving truck stopped at the house in front of us. With wide eyes, Chris and I watched as Nicole, the babeliest of all older sisters opened the door and slid out of the passenger seat, one beautiful, smooth leg at a time.
A car pulled up behind the truck and parked in the driveway. Enter Briand and Jacob. These boys were to become my best friends for the next few years, after Chris Chambers' mother and brothers get arrested for selling marijuana and he moves in with his Catholic grandmother in Galveston.
That summer, Brian, Jacob and I were swimming in their pool when we realized that my brother Tim is the same age as their sister Staci. For some reason, the only logical stepping stone from that realization was to have a pool wedding. I went home to drag Tim away from playing Final Fantasy VI long enough for this to happen. I told him we were having a race where all the losers had to pitch in on buying Breath of Fire II, one of the sweetest RPGs out at the time.
Tim, the self proclaimed "half waterbug, half boy," assumed he would win the race, so he throws on his board shorts and we race across the street to see Staci with a halo of flowers standing in the shallow end of the pool waiting for him. Confused, Tim looks at me, but doesn't suspect a thing and climbs into the pool. Brian starts the ceremony by revealing to Tim why everyone was gathered there that day. Tim starts to get nervous, but realizes that maybe he's a little in love with Staci.
We quickly run through the ceremony saying why we're there and all that. When we get to the exchanging of rings, we realize we don't have one. Being the creative boys we are, we decide that Brian and Jacob doing simultaneous can openers while I do a front flip over the couple while they kiss is ring enough.
Tim choked. "Kiss?"
"Come on, Tim! We're already this far. Just a peck on the lips! That's all you have to do."
Tim, exasperated as always, sighs and decides it's not worth the beating he'd get if he argued.
I shout the orders.
"ONE!"
Brian and Jacob kneel a little, preparing for their leap.
"TWO!"
Tim and Staci look at each other awkwardly.
"THREE!"
I run to the end of the diving board and fling myself, head over feet, in appropriate wedding manner.
A splash heard from the heavens rings out across the entire City of Conroe. When I come up from the water, I see Tim and Staci still in lip-lock. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I reflect. Then I hear Jacob scream "GROSS" and we splash them.
I suppose this starts the fateful winter day when Brian and Jacob move in across the street from me. Chris Chambers, whose mother is a clown, and I are discussing at great length Amy Jo Johnson's best assets when a moving truck stopped at the house in front of us. With wide eyes, Chris and I watched as Nicole, the babeliest of all older sisters opened the door and slid out of the passenger seat, one beautiful, smooth leg at a time.
A car pulled up behind the truck and parked in the driveway. Enter Briand and Jacob. These boys were to become my best friends for the next few years, after Chris Chambers' mother and brothers get arrested for selling marijuana and he moves in with his Catholic grandmother in Galveston.
That summer, Brian, Jacob and I were swimming in their pool when we realized that my brother Tim is the same age as their sister Staci. For some reason, the only logical stepping stone from that realization was to have a pool wedding. I went home to drag Tim away from playing Final Fantasy VI long enough for this to happen. I told him we were having a race where all the losers had to pitch in on buying Breath of Fire II, one of the sweetest RPGs out at the time.
Tim, the self proclaimed "half waterbug, half boy," assumed he would win the race, so he throws on his board shorts and we race across the street to see Staci with a halo of flowers standing in the shallow end of the pool waiting for him. Confused, Tim looks at me, but doesn't suspect a thing and climbs into the pool. Brian starts the ceremony by revealing to Tim why everyone was gathered there that day. Tim starts to get nervous, but realizes that maybe he's a little in love with Staci.
We quickly run through the ceremony saying why we're there and all that. When we get to the exchanging of rings, we realize we don't have one. Being the creative boys we are, we decide that Brian and Jacob doing simultaneous can openers while I do a front flip over the couple while they kiss is ring enough.
Tim choked. "Kiss?"
"Come on, Tim! We're already this far. Just a peck on the lips! That's all you have to do."
Tim, exasperated as always, sighs and decides it's not worth the beating he'd get if he argued.
I shout the orders.
"ONE!"
Brian and Jacob kneel a little, preparing for their leap.
"TWO!"
Tim and Staci look at each other awkwardly.
"THREE!"
I run to the end of the diving board and fling myself, head over feet, in appropriate wedding manner.
A splash heard from the heavens rings out across the entire City of Conroe. When I come up from the water, I see Tim and Staci still in lip-lock. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I reflect. Then I hear Jacob scream "GROSS" and we splash them.
11.9.08
Never Forget
My friend Rachel drove me to school in High School during the time my parents grounded my from my car. She was the kind of girl who wore a promise ring, not to her boyfriend, but to Jesus Christ, her personal savior.
The morning of September eleventh started like every other morning; we're driving to school listening to the Christian radio station, when the radio host interrupts the Stephen Curtis Chapman song we're listening to and says, "Something terrible has happened. We're not going to discuss it on this radio station because we feel it's not positive, and we're a family radio station, so if you want to hear the news, switch to a different frequency. Let's pray."
I'm kind of freaking out at this point because I have no idea what's going on, so I suggest to Rachel that we switch to an A.M. News station to hear the news. She says "My dial stays on 89.3," so I sit in silence for the rest of the ride.
When we pull into school and get out, our friend Amber is crying.
"Two planes were hijacked and hit the World Trade Center. One building is on fire and one collapsed."
I'm freaking out because my aunt and uncle live in NYC, I wonder how they're taking it, when Rachel says, "What is that? Wait, the flea market?"
The morning of September eleventh started like every other morning; we're driving to school listening to the Christian radio station, when the radio host interrupts the Stephen Curtis Chapman song we're listening to and says, "Something terrible has happened. We're not going to discuss it on this radio station because we feel it's not positive, and we're a family radio station, so if you want to hear the news, switch to a different frequency. Let's pray."
I'm kind of freaking out at this point because I have no idea what's going on, so I suggest to Rachel that we switch to an A.M. News station to hear the news. She says "My dial stays on 89.3," so I sit in silence for the rest of the ride.
When we pull into school and get out, our friend Amber is crying.
"Two planes were hijacked and hit the World Trade Center. One building is on fire and one collapsed."
I'm freaking out because my aunt and uncle live in NYC, I wonder how they're taking it, when Rachel says, "What is that? Wait, the flea market?"
10.9.08
Hot Tamales
I cannot listen to Green Day's Dookie without smelling/tasting the Hot Tamales I was eating the fateful 4th grade day I brought it home and fell in love.
Alicia
I meant to do this yesterday, but I wasn't on the computer all day. This is a short one, but the last post triggered a million memories and this is one.
Alicia was my vice growing up. I loved her all of elementary school. I had already told Jenni Connor I would marry her in 1st Grade, but then I moved. Hos in area codes, amirite?
So in 5th grade, right before the beginning of summer, right before I moved to Magnolia, right before my entire life changed, my family took a road trip.
Luckily I had Pokemon red with me, because it was four hours long. I named my Charmander Alicia, and used her in every battle I could. I never let her die. About halfway through the trip, however, my game boy got duller and duller till the batteries totally died and the screen went blank. I thought about crying, but you can't let my parents see emotions. My dad smells fear and all that.
So for the rest of the trip, literally, I sang Jewel's "You were meant for me," and gazed out the window imagining Alicia's face. How smooth, right? I don't think she and I had talked for years, and that was probably the last time I could remember what she looked like.
Alicia was my vice growing up. I loved her all of elementary school. I had already told Jenni Connor I would marry her in 1st Grade, but then I moved. Hos in area codes, amirite?
So in 5th grade, right before the beginning of summer, right before I moved to Magnolia, right before my entire life changed, my family took a road trip.
Luckily I had Pokemon red with me, because it was four hours long. I named my Charmander Alicia, and used her in every battle I could. I never let her die. About halfway through the trip, however, my game boy got duller and duller till the batteries totally died and the screen went blank. I thought about crying, but you can't let my parents see emotions. My dad smells fear and all that.
So for the rest of the trip, literally, I sang Jewel's "You were meant for me," and gazed out the window imagining Alicia's face. How smooth, right? I don't think she and I had talked for years, and that was probably the last time I could remember what she looked like.
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