la la la love story-ish, pt. 1

okay okay, sooooooooooooo.......

Let's go back to Fall 2003.  I was a young, shy, little college freshman and only god knows why, but I was taking Math 121 at like 8 or 9am M,W,F.  My only stresses in life were making sure I had the right clothes, straight hair, and getting to my freaking early math class on time.  On the other hand there was this guy who would show up ten minutes late EVERY DAY.  He looked all carefree and effortless with his dark shades and big long board.  He would sneak in and then sit down with the soccer girls (or swim girls, depending on the day) who always saved him a seat.  My thoughts:  what a cocky jerk (in today's terms this translates into "douche bag").  Maybe a few times we locked eyes, and maybe walked past each other in the Dane Smith halls, but I always kept my head down and didn't invite attention...just secretly watched and judged.  I failed that class.

Something like six months later, I was working at UNM Children's Campus (fancy for 'daycare') and as I was headed to the bathroom, here comes the sunglasses/longboard/cocky math class guy who looks like he just got hired and is getting the grand tour.  He recognized me too and smiled and said something like "hey how's it going?" and I bashfully looked down, stuttered some response, and ducked into the kitchen.  That encounter set the standard for the following six months.  He would say hi or try to start conversation and I would throw a dirty look or just ignore him.  (D says he tried and tried to talk to this cute girl, but eventually gave up because she was so stone cold). Don't ask me why...it's very rude and I can't imagine behaving like that now, but back then I was seriously sooo shy, and as a young lady who had just started college, I was getting a lot of unwanted attention from strange boys, and I didn't want to invite any weirdos into my life so instead I acted like the meanest girl on the planet.

Can you believe that hair? no wonder I thought he was just another weirdo 

At this same time I was long distance dating a gentleman in Dallas and I felt like since nobody really knew he existed (because we weren't seen hanging out with friends or going to parties) that boys would make advances not knowing I had a boyfriend, so it was my job to make myself unavailable (by using my scowl face). Dallas boy and I were on and off for like a year and a half (I didn't realize it was that long! but now that I think about it...).  We would meet up every three or four months and really only communicated via email (we were both shy...gosh that seems so stupid now).  Towards the end it got kinda rocky because although there was a great spark between us, he wanted me to move to Texas, and we had a lot in common (oddly enough), he had some depression issues.  Also, things really clicked between us and I could see myself being the wealthy wife of the mayor's son, having a beautiful home, and being on the board of the country club, but who am I kidding?  that's not me at all.  I was really intimidated by the kind of money his family had and I just couldn't get over the feelings attached with that.  It fizzled.

Sometime after Dallas and I broke up, I started noticing the other blokes around me and front and center was that one guy.  He was one of the few guys that worked at the daycare and the kids and parents really liked him.  He worked with the preschool kids and they would be crawling all over him and chasing him and screaming at the top of their lungs when he hung them upside down (I would spy on him from my classroom). I started squeezing out my first words and would manage a 'hi' or 'it's going good! and you?' in passing and soon after, for some unknown reason, I became obsessed with him.  I would watch for him through my classroom windows and would "go to the bathroom" if I knew he'd be in the same area so I could run into him and exchange our little "HIs"  I also started taking my lunches and breaks at the same time as him so that I could quietly sit in the break room and could study him at a closer vantage.  He was friends with EVERYONE.  young, old, tall, short, man, woman, parent, teacher, child, janitor, kitchen lady, etc.  He seemed like best friends with the whole world and I was the complete opposite and only spoke to people if I absolutely had to. It was interesting....like a case study of socializing...and he was the subject in question.

The only surviving picture of D in action at the daycare and it's very telling of his relationship with the kids.  Please notice the cali cap, birkenstocks, and dark sunglasses.  Also, that's my classroom in the background.  I almost expect to see my face, spying on him through the window.

One day we had this freak snow storm in the middle of the day and I saw he had his kids out in the courtyard so I bundled up my poor little toddlers and headed out to join him.  He complimented me on my clogs and showed me his own Birkenstock clogs :) and asked if I had heard the soundtrack for the movie Garden State, and I said I had just downloaded it the weekend before and loved it :) and we both agreed the movie was really good, and he might have even quoted the phrase "It says BALLS on your forehead."  It was our first conversation and I was hooked.  I kept those poor children outside way too long and they were all wet and cold, but I didn't want to cut our first encounter short.  Later the center was sending people home and he was going to stay until all the kids got picked up and I have this memory of him standing in front of crying babies, waving his hands and saying "don't cry, don't cry" (he only worked with older kids, and now he was in my territory in baby land).  I showed off my skills and got them all fed and happy and he looked soooo bemused.  I replayed that afternoon in my head for the rest of the weekend.

the good old daycare days

 It's embarrassing to admit, but I even fibbed to a few of my friends about him.  I said he was going to take me snowboarding and we had hung out a few times...but I think it was just wishful thinking.  I even fibbed to him once, just to get closer.  I knew we had a mutual friend (an old hook up of mine) and I owed him money but didn't have his new phone number so one day during our break I asked Dave if he had this guy's number.  He didn't but he knew a way to get it so we exchanged numbers and he said he would call me later.  He did call me later and the conversation only lasted 30 seconds, he sounded really nervous.  "Hi, Rebecca?  This is David.  From work?"  By giving him my number, and an excuse to call me I thought it would be love at hello, but nope, he says now that he thought I wasn't interested in him since I was asking him to get the phone number of a different guy.  Alas, I called the guy, paid off the loan, and hooked up with him.

A few more months went by, and on Thursday, March 24, 2005, during our break I casually asked "what are your plans this weekend?" and he replied "well actually it's my birthday and I'm having a party tonight.  you should come!  I'll call you later today to give you directions."  I was so excited and I remember going to the mall with two of my friends and buying some new clothes and he called while I was driving home.  Another very nervous phone call "Hi Rebecca?  This is David.  David from work? Remember it's my birthday today?"  He gave me directions to his house, and it happened to be next door to a guy that I had briefly dated the year before (such a floosy right?).  What a coincidence.  I still lived at home and I remember sitting on the couch talking to my mom and her friend, and being soooo nervous about going and my mom wanted to know who this guy was, but I didn't really have much to say, I didn't know anything about him, except that I stalked him at work. I asked a few friends to go with me and they all bailed so I finally mustered up the guts to go alone.   

To be continued..... HERE.

getting to know you....

I have this constant wonder about what people are like in their personal time.  Like people waiting at the bus stop...do they go home and complain that they had to wait at the cold bus stop?  do they have wives?  hobbies?  are they from here?  I wonder what their house looks like?  how long did it take them to get dressed this morning?  what were their last thoughts leaving the house? 

I love people watching and speculating (errr.... judging) about the different way people live.  Like there are so many things about myself that I feel only a few people know, so I can only imagine all the little secrets all of these strangers around me have.  Also, I have moments throughout my life where I'm like, wow, if only the people sitting in the cubicle next to me knew this, they would think about me completely different than the quiet, private, boring person that I come off as. 

Bottom line, I would much rather quietly learn about and watch other people, than divulge about myself .(For the first 3 years of my relationship w/ D, he and his family thought it was shyness, but really, they love to talk about themselves, and I love to listen...and judge.  Now D is fully aware of my people watching fetish, and as a compromise, I interact a lot more).  Anyways, back to my point: the downside of being a private person is that people who are my friends and family and coworkers, don't know me very well, and when I'm feeling good and happy and being 'myself' I sometimes find out that people are shocked by some of my interests, or things I do or say and then I feel like "oh my gosh, I'm surrounded by strangers, if they only knew."

So in the spirit of letting it all hang out and full disclosure, I will drop a few little Rebecca specials as they come to my mind.  Here are a few to start off:

1.  I love old school hip hop and R&B and tune into the 97.3 old school lunch hour everyday to go down memory lane, but then scoff at how they play songs from when I was in high school.  I look forward to being old, because 'oldies' stations will be playing the songs I love from the 90s.  When it was the 90s, I was in elementary school and I always said I hated rap music because my initials spell R.A.P. and I didn't want to be a conformist.  To say the least, I was a late bloomer.

2.  I love watching compilation album info-mercials.  Rock ballads, Quiet Storm Slow Jams, Favorite Hits from the 60s and 70s, Soft Rock, Monster Jams ...they just run on a loop, over and over and over, and I stay tuned.  They are the songs everyone forgot.  In reference to #1, I also can't wait til I'm old so I can buy all my favorite random one-hit wonder 90s songs on cheesy compilation albums. 

4.  I have a memory of steel, when it is in the ON position.  I think I have a photographic memory.  No, I can't see a sheet of numbers and recite them to you in reverse order. The way I remember things the best is by writing it on a piece of paper, and just by seeing it, the information is printed in my brain and I have something to refer back to.  I'm not so good at remembering what time I'm supposed to meet people places and I can't remember movie quotes to save my life, but I can read books and tell Dave about my favorite part while remembering if it was on the left or the right page, and on the top or the bottom.  In college, I learned 25% of the material, and memorized the other 75% (I didn't know what I was talking about, I could just recall the visualization of each note card or the pages of text).  Dave thinks I'm crazy that I remember so much.  I feel like I can recall every moment of my life from age 4, and he says he can barely remember his elementary school years.  I have pretty vivid memories of most everything and poor poor David never wins a fight because of this.

5.  I sing.  I sing in the shower, and around the house, but mainly sing in the car.  I need to hear a song 3.2 times to memorize the lyrics, and then I bust it out.  David is the king of movie quotes, and I'm the queen of song lyrics.  Songs I do like, songs I don't like, I have them all memorized.  I can't drive with no music in the car, I can't drive with music I don't like in the car (usually music with no words), and I have to sing in the car regardless of whether I'm driving or someone else is driving (I hold back with strangers).  It's like a bad habit, but I have to be doing something while I'm getting from place to place, and it's better than raging.  When I think about how I look, I'm ashamed (who cares about how I sound, no one can hear me), but I try and be inconspicuous...except for when I'm throwing down some Bombs Over Baghdad.

Thank you, thank you very much.