Thursday, November 6, 2008

Sad But True + a Whine

First, the whine.  I got an e-mail from Blake Shelton’s website last night saying that if I pre-ordered his new CD (due out Oct. 18th!!!!) from iTunes, that I’d get like three bonus songs, a digital booklet, and a video, blah blah blah.  I thought long and hard about it because it was $11.99 and I’m sure Best Buy will have it for $9.99 the week it releases.  Well, after thinking about it all night, I figured what the heck and decided to pre-order it at work this morning.

ONLY TO DISCOVER THAT IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE ON iTUNES!  What the hell?  GRRR!  I’m hoping that it’s just some glitch and I’ll be able to get it tonight or tomorrow… but WAH!  LOL

Okay, and now, on to the real point of this blog.  Ever have a really special person in your past?  One you don’t think of often, but sometimes a certain song, or a certain place will make you think of them?  I have one.  He was my first boyfriend and one of my dearest friends, up until the drugs got to him.  And man, did I love that boy.

Driving to work this morning, I was sick of my CD’s and took a risk on listening to the radio – something I don’t generally do because, well, FM radio sucks and I haven’t gotten my XM hooked back up in my new truck yet.  So, having run out of options on the radio, I went back to the beginning and landed on KOMP, our local rock station.  They were doing their Morning Metallica, something they apparently do every morning.  So, having been a metal head in my youth, I stopped to see what they’d pull out of the vault. 

That’s what made me think of Paulo (and stop laughing, you know who you are… I dislike using real names!).  He’d moved to town my sophomore year from backwoods Arizona.  He was dark skinned with these beautiful golden brown curls and a killer smile.  And now I disappoint myself… I want to remember his eyes as blue-green, but somehow I think they had to have been brown… he was very proud of his heritage – telling everyone he was a Mexican Indian, and correcting them LOUDLY if they just called him a Mexican. 

He was my kind of guy – he broke all the stereotypes and surprised you at every turn.  He was a good student – smart, a quick thinker, and enjoyed learning.  Yet, he loved his video games (see a pattern here yet?), loved his D&D (again, pattern?), and most of all – he loved his music.  Loud, hard, and obnoxious (and there’s a joke in there somewhere but our relationship never got that far so I can’t accurately make it LOL).  He was sweet, he was kind, he was the most fun I think I’d ever had.

And, I suppose, he was my first love.

Paulo and a friend, Jacob, stood in line for Jacob’s then girlfriend to buy Garth Brooks tickets.  Bored, they started a mosh pit at Thomas & Mack.  LOL  Only those two.  Amusingly enough, Jacob took me on my first date my freshman year.  To Olive Garden and the tractor pulls. LOL

No Jacob, I swear I did NOT slam the door in your face, either!  Not that you’re reading this, but I know you’re out there, just on the other side of this city than I.

My first kiss came from Paulo, on the front lawn of my high school where we’d sit and have lunch every day.  I was so sad when he left school, he had such a future, but things weren’t good for him, living away from his family and relying on others.  It was his downfall, I suppose. 

The last time I saw him was three years ago for our mutual friend’s funeral.  I saw him and, truth be told, Zan pointed him out to me.  I was shocked at how tall he’d grown.  But he was still the same person, physically.  He looked right at me and either didn’t see me or didn’t recognize me.  Jacob did, however, and grasped me and refused to let go.  It was a beautiful thing, and not even Zan complained. 

And now that I’m writing this, I wonder… my favorite musician has dark brown curls and a killer smile…

~A very thoughtful Crazy Lady


Robin Snodgrass said...

No matter how much you love the man in your life, there's something about a first love that is always going to have a tiny piece of your heart. Very poignant.