The First Date

This time eleven years ago I was a twenty four year old single mum waking up from what was quite possibly the most wonderful night of my life. Some eighteen hours early I had nervously been awaiting what was really one of my first ever real dates. 

Image credit: Jasmaine Mathews

A blind date it was not, yet in many ways that was exactly how it felt. It had almost been like a lifetime since our paths had last crossed. We were as good as strangers in so many ways.

My mother had agreed to care for Lovely, who at the time was not yet two. Since Mum lived with us at the time it was no real inconvenience for her have her for the night. I greatly appreciated it though and it was by no means something I did often or took real advantage of.

Even though I was a single mum I had not really been so for very long. Lovely's father and I had gone our separate ways the previous April. A week after Lovely's first birthday. I had followed him out in a last ditch effort to save our very flawed relationship. I received the message loud and clear there was nothing to salvage.

The following eight months were incredibly tumultuous for me as I tried to find my way in life once more.

May saw me with a 13 month old, a broken arm and homeless. Returning to Mum and Dad's house really was the most sensible option and reluctantly I took it.

By July I was nearly back on my own feet and settled into my very own rented accommodation. An old weather beaten fibro built house that had some how managed to remain standing when most of the city had been destroyed by a cyclone some twenty five years ago. 

It had three bedrooms, a stainless steel kitchen and a massive yard. All that I needed and a whole lot more. Apparently it was best for me not to be alone. Not that I was alone because I had Lovely but it was a handy excuse for those that wanted to be alone. 

My parents were well and truly entrapped in a can't live with or without them scenario. They would take turns in coming to stay for extended periods of time. Having one with me gave them the space they both needed at the time. 

Dad had gone on another road trip, which mum had to be at her house. For a few moments I was alone. 

Then a friend need a place to stay. In many ways I felt responsible for his lack of accommodation. I had the room so gave returned the generosity he had shown to me when I needed it most a few months prior.

A few days turned to weeks, which went to a month, and then longer. Somewhere along the way, we stopped being just friends. We were both so lonely at the time it seemed to make perfect sense.

Only it wasn't really.

Deep down I knew my heart wasn't in it. 

I had spent the last few years doing things that my heart wasn't in. I had vowed never to do that again. Never. 

By this time my dad had returned and mum was looking for some space of her own again. The what would have been empty room was again empty no more as  mum quickly entered the vacated space left by my friend come lover who would eventually become but a stranger.

Life seemed to be rolling along nicely. 

With the new year upon me I was filled with hope and possibility. I had a casual job and was studying. I had found a wonderful day care option for Lovely. Life felt like it was coming together. Sure there was something missing but for the most part all the pieces were slowly falling into places.

Then the dreams started.

So real and vivid. Even in waking hours they would begin to invade my every thought.

A face. A person. Someone from what felt like a lifetime ago.

When I won a double pass to a local nightclub exclusive party there was no doubt on who I would offer the other pass to. Provided of course I could actually make the call. My hand would waver over the phone for so long before I would actually have the courage to pick it up.

Even thinking about it all these years on my stomach still starts to tighten and swirl all at the one time. My heart had never beat faster and it amazes me how I actually managed to get the words out.

"Hello it's Rhianna, is Mr Awesome there?" I somehow stammer

"No of course he is not here" his mother curtly replies

I am suddenly thrown back to the early nineties where I was an awkward and nervous teenager when it came to boys. My heart sinks and I am engulfed with disappointment. What ever was I thinking?

"He doesn't finish work till five, should be home by five thirty" a slightly softer voices continues.

Of course work. Why didn't I think of that? 

Feeling more than slightly stupid I leave my number and begin counting down the hours till I can at least begin expecting a return call.

to be continued...

joining in with Kerri

My First Kiss

There is a mountain of washing patiently waiting to be folded. In fact there are multiple mountains of washing scattered around the house that are all patiently waiting to be attended in one way or another. Not that any of this is a startling revelation or at any way related to my first kiss but it does offer some explanation as to why I am here.

Rather than tackle said mountains of washing I decided to treat myself with a few moments of screen time. I had after all been rather busy all morning. You know doing the dishes, feeding the masses, school drop off, doctor's appointments and a spot of shopping. It is a hard life that I lead. I deserved a bit of 'me' time after all that. 

Anyway since one of the quickest and easiest ways to get 'me' time is via social media that is straight to where I head, which lead me to Kerri, which in turn brought me to share with you the joy that was my first kiss.

Like most who have already shared their story, I can remember it as if it were only yesterday. As opposed to the 21 years it actually is. Which just quietly made me gasp a little because that sounds like such a long time ago. Probably because it is and all but whatever.

So there I was, a fourteen year old catholic school girl. Not that I was catholic but I did go to a catholic school, why that is revolves around school uniforms, my mother and a post of its own. Back to my first kiss for now. 

It was the middle of May. Well it was sometime in May, I could go and check the exact date as I know I wrote about it at the time. I did contemplate digging up my 1992 diary but that would involve entering my bedroom which is where the largest mountain of washing is waiting. I worried that I may feel obligated to tackle some the washing meaning this post may not get written because school pick up time is also fast approaching and well clearly that just wouldn't do. I just know the world at large is dying to here more of this juicy tale...

picture thanks to here
It's meant to be an Italian Stallion, much like my first kiss was

My love, at the time, was a year nine boy. Very much a tall dark and handsome Italian Stallion. I may or may not have actually referred to him like that at the time as well. We had being going out for a few weeks when the kiss took place. Which meant it was pretty serious stuff. And by going out I mean sitting holding hands on the bus ride home from school. There was also the occasional conversation at recess and lunch. Not too much though  as we both still needed some time with our respective friends.

As there was no Facebook, in fact we barely even had computers in our school at this point, we spent a lot of time writing letters. Well notes really, but anyway. One day he got his friend to give me a note that asked him to meet him on "the stairs". Why he got his friend to give it to me I do not know, it was just the way carrier mail amongst shy and coy teens worked backed then.

My heart it was a flutter. "The stairs" was a place that only couples seemed to spend time. While I had been a couple on numerous occasions over my year and a bit in high school this was the first to see me venture to such heights. 

Nervously I headed on over. Trying to not smile too much, in case I gave away my secret rendezvous,  though really I am sure I was beaming from ear to ear. By now little heart was pounding. I could see the top of his head peeping over the edge of the concrete structure. My heart it raced even faster.

Breathing deep and walking slow I approached my gorgeous beau. He greeted me with a smile and we stood standing as close as we both could dare. Quietly asking how each other was and how there day had been. There were little sparks of electricity zipping and zapping between us both. Our fingers gently intertwining amongst sparks. His giant hand engulfing mine.

He towered above me, even when we stood on different steps I was still no where near his height. It was one of the things I lusted over most. His enormousness. He was big and tough and super strong. At least to my eyes, which at the end of the day was all that really mattered. Yet when he bent down and placed his lips upon mine he was softer than a baby's bottom. 

Being the most inexperienced person on the planet I had no idea that his tongue would want to make it's way into MY mouth let alone the fact I was supposed to make mine do some exploration of it's own. My poor little think too much brain had well and truly kicked passed overdrive at this point and was unable to take it all in. Because if things weren't dire enough his hand, which had somehow found their way to my waist were now heading towards my bottom.

Oh the horror! Yep it was that time of the month and back then there were few sanitary options that didn't resemble a surf board. Of course my mother knew only of the biggest surf board type of pad and suddenly my highly anticipated first kiss with my Italian Stallion had turned into a nightmare as I spent the dying moments of the embraced panicked stricken he would discover a lumpy pad and be totally repulsed. Oh the joys of a teen girls mind.

Suddenly aware that I was reeling with terror my suitor removed his tongue from the inner crevices of my mouth and and took a step back. Before we had a chance to discuss the matter further we were invaded by some fellow students. At which point I fled for the sanctuary of the girls toilets. On account of not knowing what else to do.

With hindsight and some more experience I can't help but wonder if perhaps this was his first go at a pash as well. Or perhaps he was just taking the whole 'suck face' concept a little too literally? As I reached the toilets I suddenly became aware that my entire lower face felt as if it was covered with slobber.

Not surprisingly we stopped being boyfriend and girlfriend not too long after this little incident. We did not however stop being great friends. So much so that three years later when I made my debut (as you did back in those days) he was my partner. And what a striking couple we were (even if I do say so myself). Even to this day we still bump into one another around town and have chat. In fact as I think about it now, I couldn't have picked a better first kiss kisser.