Sunday 09 November 2003
I thought since the overriding theme lately has been of loneliness that I'd take the day (there's no place to call for a job on a Sunday and the Packers don't play until tomorrow night) to explore my past relationships... see what I've done right or wrong. (Obviously, given my current state of affairs, there's more wrong than right.) I wanted to write a comparison of Yvonne to Kari, but the more I thought about writing the more it made sense to go all the way back to the beginning.
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I was naive about girls for a long time and didn't have my first "real" girlfriend until my senior year in high school. Sure, I snuck a couple kisses at parties or school dances and I had a monster crush on a girl named Kris sophomore year, but the first girl to pay serious attention to me was Susan. She was a freshman during my senior year. We met in marching band; she was in the color guard and I was on the snare line. Susan had blonde hair and green eyes, was 5'4" and weighed a hundred pounds if she had rocks in her pockets. We dated for a year, until I started school at UW-Whitewater. She was very level-headed, knowing I was older and about to meet hundreds of girls closer to my age... she broke up with me before I gave her reason to.
At the end of my first semester there, my main squeeze was Kathy... nice girl, but wound-up pretty tightly. She was blonde with blue eyes, about 5'1" and 125-ish. Kathy was an "anything-but" girl; I wanted more sexually, she didn't... and I didn't press her into anything she didn't want to do. We dated for nine months. She, too, broke up with me.
After three semesters at UW-Whitewater I learned that college is supposed to be more about studying and less about cribbage, chess, and beer. I flunked out of school, worked at a restaurant for a few months, and regrouped. Regrouping meant joining the Navy.
Clowning around with the color guard on a high school band trip, Susan, my first girlfriend is seated at the bottom of the slide. Debbie, discussed on the next page is above her. (Believe it or not, that's me, smack-dab in the middle of the pack.)