It is New Year's Eve.
I am sitting on the couch next to Paul, while he watches Survivor Man. Survivor Man just caught a fish and Paul is watching all intent-like. I bet he's taking mental notes on what to do should he ever find himself stranded in the arctic with nothing but a canoe and his wiles.
We ordered Indian food, and when I am done posting I will make hot chocolate and I will ask Paul about his favorite part of Survivor Man and then I will fall asleep while reading. Maybe I will be awake at midnight, but probably not.
I am thinking about my brother John. He just turned fourteen and he gets to go to his first church dance tonight. And that makes me think about my first dance, on New Year's Eve after I had turned fourteen.
I curled my hair and I wore this new plaid dress that I got for Christmas and I think I went with friends but I don't remember. I just remember walking into the church building and you could hear music from inside and it was so exciting my heart was beating all fast because I might meet the love of my life.
The room was all decorated with streamers and balloons and the lights were dim and people were dancing and it was like life began right there, like life began with balloons and streamers and boys.
I know I was there with friends but why can't I remember who? It was probably Stacy, or Gail, or Jenn, but I can't see their faces in my memory. In my mind it is only me, in the middle of my life beginning.
We stand in a circle, me and my faceless friends, and it is a fast song and I try to find the beat, try to learn how to move to the music and I am awkward but it gets better and someone taps me on the shoulder and it's a boy.
He tells me I look beautiful and my heart soars because I have waited my whole life to hear that and I have braces and my nose is too big for my face but I can't afford plastic surgery and my mom wouldn't approve anyways and so to hear this boy tell me I am beautiful is amazing.
His name is Keith and he asks me to dance twice and he maybe holds me just a little too close but it's exciting and he's sixteen and he lives in Camarillo. I think Keith is a good name and I wonder will I marry Keith because I'm always wondering who I will marry.
Then the dance is over, and the lights turn on and everyone is standing there, all sweaty, and nobody looks quite as good as they did when the lights were dim. Mom picks me up and I am floating as I ride in the blue minivan because my life just began.
And now I am sitting on the couch and I think about John and I want to reach three-thousand miles to California and give him a hug. I wonder if he'll feel like his life is beginning.
Probably not. I don't think balloons and streamers have quite the same effect on him.
2 comments:
Ooh - I loved reliving this with you...stake dances were the BEST! But you're right...it's different for boys. They're not thinking marriage at the age of 9 like us girls are. :-)
I'm pretty sure I was one of the faceless. And how funny is it that I was probably thinking the same thing about who I was oging to marry, and then I went and married a boy who asked me to dance at every single dance I ever went to? I love that about him. And I love that I remember so far back with you. Good times.
Post a Comment