The Youth of Today

When I started high school, I wasn’t exactly ‘Miss Popular’.  I wasn’t one of the high school elite, those fantastically pretty girls with perfect figures, buckets of confidence and parents that obviously had bigger pay checks than mine judging by their clothes. 

I was impossibly shy and a little on the pudgy side. 

To make matters worse, over the holidays prior to the start of high school, I had seen a commercial with an elfin faced goddess who sported a very short pixie-ish haircut - and I fell in love.  Not with the model, but with the style.  I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would be sophistication personified, starting school looking like that.

Up until that time I had quite long blonde/brown hair that had curl.  My mother stood at the hairdressers elbow as she cut, sniffling, watching the tresses hit the floor.  I didn’t care if it was beautiful hair and I ‘was going to regret it’...  I was a grown up, my life was about to change.  I was about to enter the real world.  I felt about ten feet tall throughout that cut.

This lasted up until the moment I looked in the mirror and didn’t see myself suddenly transformed into an elfin faced goddess.  Instead, I looked like a pudgy boy.

Where am I going with this?  Well given the fact that I was a shy, pudgy, boy thing at school, I didn’t get to date much.  I’m not even sure I actually even thought of dating!  Having read that back, I remember that I swooned with unrequited love for the first few years of high school; so I did think about it – I just didn’t get to experience it.

So my familiarity in the dating rites of twelve year old boys is somewhat limited. 

This makes my ability to find resolution to the argument between myself and the squeeze a monumental quest.  If I thought it would work, I could take a tonka truck over there, slam it on the table and say “ready to talk yet moron?”

Silent Treatment:  a sulky twelve year old trapped inside a fifty-six year old body is incredibly unattractive.