- #THE DISHWASHER VAMPIRE SMILE ACHIEVABLE BEAD PATCH#
- #THE DISHWASHER VAMPIRE SMILE ACHIEVABLE BEAD FULL#
The boys talked to Sunny as if I did not exist and made the burn worse by mocking my eighties’ hairstyle.
Suddenly, yours truly became the jealous gangly friend who didn’t understand why her locker wasn’t filled with valentine hopefuls. But the bliss lasted only until the boys took interest and the bombardment of locker love notes began.
It was these simple things that made our relationship blissful.
#THE DISHWASHER VAMPIRE SMILE ACHIEVABLE BEAD FULL#
Every night we spent together that summer was invested in lying on the roof to get what we referred to as a “moon tan.” We even went so far as to bring up the tanning oil and spray bottles full of water to mist our skin. It truly was my humor that won her heart and the title of “best friend.” My ability to make her giggle until she fell asleep earned me rights to more sleepovers. Our inevitable friendship was always upbeat. She sat, we talked, and by the end of class, we were passing notes back and forth, making plans for a sleepover. She looked like the cover girl from one of those teen magazines with floating text next to her head that reads, “5 Ways to Get Him to Ask You to the Dance!” Yes, she was that cute. “Isn’t this exciting? The first day of class! How was your summer? Hi, I’m Sunny.” Then she reached out her hand to shake mine with confidence. She pulled supplies from her pink and purple bag, making eighth grade small talk. She had the biggest turquoise eyes that complimented her wide smile, freckles, and perfectly teased bangs. She scanned the room and made a beeline for the empty seat next to me, beaming when she asked if she could sit there. When she smiled, her brilliant teeth gleamed from cheek to freckled cheek, offset by a summer tan. She was full of sunshine and rainbows from the moment our eyes met. It literally began on the very first day of school. For me there were a few before my world revolved around my first “girl” crush in eighth grade. To make it worse, there are three of them, but we are not to that part yet.Įvery person remembers their first crush. Mine is no exception my story is totally lame. It’s the before and after we all sit on the edge of our seats for. They want pride and fireworks! They want balloons and screaming trannies with bad wigs to parade down the street! But, the fact is, most coming out stories are boring. Thank you, friends, for letting me sleep in your bed during a sleepover, rather than on the floor, and for undressing in front of me proclaiming, “Who cares? We’re both girls.” Ladies, thank you, because through the confusion of sexual identity you were always there to bring me back to the bosom of familiarity. My ticket to hell may have been purchased for crying uncontrollably to get that second mesmerizing look. The view of your ample teenage breasts peeking curiously from your sweater as you hugged me is an image timeless to this day. Thank you, babysitter, for comforting me as tears wet my cheeks over my stubbed toe from a vigorous game of kick-the-can.
#THE DISHWASHER VAMPIRE SMILE ACHIEVABLE BEAD PATCH#
All she wanted was for Jack to caress her body, a word we copied and used over and over again as the Cabbage Patch kids covered our shame.īless you for suggesting we brush our teeth before we practiced French kissing for the boys, for sneaking me into your mom’s room to show me porn, and for letting me taste her edible underwear before cramming them back into the package half eaten. I played the role of Jack Tripper from Three’s Company and you, the various women he tried to have sex with, including my favorite character, Lonna, the older sex-starved woman always throwing herself at Jack’s feet. Thanks to all who lay beneath me under the Cabbage Patch sheet set, reenacting adult roles on cheesy seventies sitcoms. After all, it was you who unintentionally led me to personal sexual discovery. Thank you, friends, family, and girls who in their own prepubescent curiosities let me play humping games. This lets me know there are others with freak tendencies. My sexual adventures began with mutual exploration and self-gratification. To the mighty dry hump-the godsend to any little girl’s clitoral repertoire. May you laugh, learn and find peace in your own rainbow. To the people who find knowledge and advice within the mistakes I have made, and to those readers who are strictly entertained. I respect you for encouraging me to tell my story, even the embarrassing bits. A Memoir of How the Closet Can Kiss My AssĪ special thank you has to be given to the people who supported me through the writing process…Įd, Caidyn, Jay, Cheryl, Leigha, Mandy, Jen, Hufsa, and Travis.
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