1. First day of school.
The first day of school is hardly something I can remember. I know I attended kindergarten in Orem, Utah. But, I do recall moving to Montana when I was six, and how in first grade there was this boy in the second grade who chased me ruthlessly every single recess. I was so scared of him, every single summer I began praying multiple times a day, with all my might, that he didn't get held back somehow to end up in my grade. I dreaded the first day of school so much every year! I was extremely relieved when we moved across town in the middle of third grade. That kid scared me so much. He always threatened to kiss me if he ever caught me. I was always faster.
2. First kiss.
I was in 9th grade, standing in my best friend's living room with Cal, my first official boyfriend. I didn't like him much, but felt pressured by my friend to have him as a boyfriend. It was a very quick, dry peck, which I ended quickly by hugging him. We mutually broke up shortly thereafter, and a year or two later, he came out of the closet as gay. That may explain why we didn't kiss after that once, and why there was no chemistry.
3. First date.
Of course my first date was when I was 16, as that was a rule in our house. It was with Mike, an adopted native American in the other stake whom I had met at a bi-stake dance. He was so handsome, and I was so infatuated, that I barely talked at all during our date, for fear of causing him to think I was a nerd. If only I had talked, perhaps we'd have dated more than just that once.
4. First car.
I got to take the Wally Wagon to BYU with me, even though I didn't have my license yet. The stipulation was that I get my license (finally) and then I could drive it. What's the Wally Wagon? My grandpa's Plymouth K station wagon, of course. The first real car I actually owned I bought when Dartman and I first got married (Geo Prizm).
5. First time---
My first time was with a guy from Chile who lived in my apartment complex in Provo, Utah where I was going to BYU. I blogged about it here.
6. First break up.
I never actually broke up with anyone...but the guy I loved in high school one day quit talking to me...found out later he felt that saying goodbye would be too hard, so he ended it that way (he had been accepted to West Point) and he later wrote a paper in his English class about his love for a girl named Lisa and how he regretted doing that to me.
7. First 'real' job.
Someone from Albertsons grocery store called the art department of my high school and asked if anyone would be interested in a job making signs there. I thought it was window painting and sign design, and when I first arrived to "interview" he instead walked me through the store, telling me what my job entailed, which was making price comparison signs the size of recipe cards that hang between the Albertsons brand items and national brands. It was writing with markers in a legible hand. Fun times.
8. First time to lose a job.
My first job ended when I was scheduled to head to Austria as an exchange student. The store manager begged me to stay, but somehow Europe sounded like a better option. I've never been fired.
9. First time in love.
High school, ninth grade, when I was walking down the hall and saw him for the first time...yes, it was Mr. West Point. But he didn't know I was in love with him due to that same problem of me thinking if I spoke, he'd never like me. I loved him on and off all through high school, until our thoughts were aligned and we dated until he stopped talking to me.
10. First drink.
Blogged about that too. I was 34.
11. First Sign of a Backbone.
When I decided I wanted to be an exchange student even though I knew I wouldn't be able to afford it. I dragged my mom to the parent information meeting the night I first heard the announcement for anyone interested in being an exchange student...I had sat straight up in my desk, my heart pounding, knowing this was something I had to look into. I had never considered it before that time. I'm so glad I did it.
12. First Ambition.
I wanted to draw women as well as Blossom Lefcourt did in my 4th grade class. I'd draw pages and pages of feet in high heels, noses, arms, hands, chins, profiles, cheeks, hair. Yep. I'm still drawn to drawing and painting the female figure.
13. First Realization of Mortality.
When I woke up last of all my siblings the morning that my baby brother died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. It was surreal peeking out and seeing strangers in the living room, and my parents with baby Mark. I was five years old at the time, I think. I'll blog about that another time, as it deserves thought and care.