We all go through it. It’s a right of passage–It’s called growing up. Well, growing up isn’t as simple as it sounds. Mom always told me to take One Day at a Time. There will be Happy Days and there will be days when you just want to shout Gimme a Break. Well Nell Carter isn’t going to save you now. We’re not all born with Silver Spoons in our mouths and some of us have to work to make it to the Head of the Class. There are Diff’rent Strokes for different folks. At times you may feel like your movin’ on up, like The Jeffersons and other times that you just feel like Square Pegs in round holes. Getting along with your parents through the teenage years is rough. Gone were the days of thinking your dad was The Greatest American Hero and the Family Ties don’t seem quite so tight and on occasion we felt like Perfect Strangers. We just wanted to please them and every once in a while get a That’s Incredible or at least hear their Cheers. With the ups and downs of mood swings and hormone shifts it feels like Hill Street Blues. You cry yourself to sleep at night wondering why you don’t live on a Little House on the Prairie or come home to The Walton’s every night. Things may get a little Too Close for Comfort, but you can always count on your Bosom Buddies. My girlfriends and I were tight, like Laverne and Shirley. Although, every once in a while we would let a boy get between us [and I never drank milk and Pepsi]. That’s when my mom would sit me down for a Hart to Hart chat and try explaining to me the Facts of Life. Was it so wrong that I too wanted to catch a ride on the Love Boat? I knew boys would come and go but a friend is for always, but come on my heart’s not made of Remington Steele! And just when I’d think that boy [that got between us] was in love with me, I’d realize that I too, was living on Fantasy Island. That’s ok, because I don’t need a Knight Rider. I’ll be The Fall Guy and stay home and try to piece together a Newhart for myself. Little did I know that one day I would be a Thirty Something, Married with Children, with my very own Ricky Shcroder and a Full House. To all you guys who passed me by, I have one question! Who’s the Boss now?
You know you’re dating the wrong guy when—— January 1, 2008
Dating is such a simple word. I would call it more like being thrown to the wolves, playing Russian roulette or being baptized in boiling water. Okay, so we’ve established it’s painful. I’m an old [exaggeration] married lady now, so I can look back on these times and laugh. [Sometimes I laugh through the tears, but I'm still laughing]. I was asked out by this guy in college. We met on campus at the Rec center. We were both avid fitness people and that was a good thing to have in common. Who knew he’d be a meat head? We had planned on going to the comedy club and who doesn’t like to laugh, right? We had some time to kill because we were early for the comedy show. He asked if I was hungry and I’m the kind of girl that’s not afraid to eat in front of a guy. So I say, “sure, sounds great”. He ended up taking me to HOOTERS. Seriously, HOOTERS?!?!? Did I mention this was a first date? It was bad enough that he chose that joint for our first date, but he proceeded to stare at every female in short shorts and barely there t-shirt. [Can you say UNCOMFORTABLE]. Let’s just say that was our first and our last date.
