64 And Sunny

That's the weather here- with a sky as blue as the newly elected United States House of Representatives. (Sorry, couldn't resist a little celebrating)

Well, it's only two more days until the big reunion with high school boyfriend (HSB). Is he in the least bit nervous? (Probably not, nothing about me ever phased him).

Well, I am a little nervous- praying that it's not some awkward event where the three of us run out of things to say in the first twenty minutes. I am already putting together some conversation starters in my head.

More than nervous though, I am actually beginning to look forward to it. The last time I faced my past (at that wedding) I remember the person I was as a self centered 25 year old. Now I am remembering the teenager. Yes, I was a head case but isn't that the time when you are supposed to be a head case? I was a typical girl dreaming of romance and roses- I was spoiled by watching all those Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers movies on WOR. Soon enough I would learn that love wasn't all that elegant. I had the happy naivete of youth. The belief that life was a wonderful adventure, that everything was possible. Obviously, life isn't like that - there are ups and downs, the good and bad. But it is nice to remember my sweet innocence.

So Friday night- all decked out- I will come face to face with the first boy I ever kissed. The first one I ever said "I love you" to. I am sitting here chuckling at the high drama and import I associated with all that then. He wasn't the best kisser (that's for the Valentine's Day blog), not my true love but he was a great guy. Intelligent, nice and sweet. And I should add- a gentleman

I still remember the last time I saw him. When my family moved out of New York right before my senior year, he broke up with me and never wrote (I got 3 to 4 letters a day from friends while in Texas). I came back for a visit and to see my high school's graduation. I showed up at school on the last day of finals. While my friends were sweating them out (I had already graduated), I sat on the floor of the school lobby reading Steve Martin's book "Cruel Shoes." Guess who was the first person to come out of his test. Correct. He stood there in front of me. I refused to acknowledge him (remember I was a head case). Then the rest of my friends showed up and he drifted off. Through the years I wondered what he wanted to say to me. And no, I am not going to ask him as he hates 'memory lane" stories. I am just glad that I can call him my friend.

An explanation about the photo. HSB loved music such as Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. I asked to borrow his copy of Works Volume I. I should have asked to borrow his liver. He reluctantly let me have it-overnight only, even though it was a three album set. Never have heard the whole thing.

So that's where it all stands today....going to grill while the weather is good.

Taffy