So this was a tough topic for me. If I took it at face value I’d write about being fifteen and meeting the cutest thing I’d ever seen on two legs in summer school (I said he was cute, not brilliant), and the way it ended (badly) almost two years later. If I wanted to be especially precious, I’d skip that one and write about beautiful long red hair and liquid warm brown eyes, then wrap it all up by explaining that he was an Irish setter named Bojangles.
Of course I could go all literary and write about my first fictional character love, not impressive like my friend Tasha Alexander’s first love, Mr. Darcy, but the rock-steady sandy-haired stylings of Trixie Belden’s brother, Jim. Which of course led me to consider writing about my first author love, the book and/or author who first made me burn with writerly ambition (Deenie, Judy Blume, age 9).
Did you realize I agonized over these topics like this?
Nothing seemed right. I’ve flipped through my first food love (Boo Berry cereal), my first location love (trundle bed in the down position), my first coveted clothing item love (gray suede jacket with puffed shoulders and stand-up collar, 1983), my first music love (Eddie Rabbitt, “Ooooooh, I’m drivin’ my life away, lookin’ for a better way, fooooor me-ee”), and my first office supply love (Brother P-Touch Label Maker).
My evening turned into a maudlin auld lang syne of things I loved and either outgrew, lost, gave away, or forgot about. But is that not the nature of first loves? And why not? Few get it right the first time. And I’m certainly no exception.
We all move on. We find new loves; loves tempered and strengthened by experience and a willingness to compromise, as I did when I saw the cutest thing I’d ever seen on two legs for the second time, got smart and realized it rarely happened twice and married him. Happened when I moved on to new books, new food, new places, clothes, and music.
Those first loves still hold a place in my heart, and despite various friends and family members claims to the contrary, I am actually quite sentimental. They’ll always hold a place in my heart. But there’s a time to move on. When we don’t, we can’t find those new, wonderful loves to learn from.
I’ll say this though: I will never give up my Brother P-Touch Label Maker.
And they say I’m not sentimental.
7 Replies to “Sentimental Journey by Deb Kristy”
Kristy, the Brother P-Touch Label Maker ROCKS!!!!
I wish I still had one.
Trixie Belden’s brother?
I was in love with Trixie in an I-want-to-be-her kind of way. I wanted to ride horses through the fallen leaves in the woods, I wanted a clubhouse with curtains made by Honey. Sadly, I even wanted to dress like Trixie. Part of me still does.
Lovely post, Kristy.
Were those all true loves, Kristy, and not fleeting infatuations? Excluding the Brother P-Touch Label Maker and the cutest thing you’d ever seen on two legs for the second time, of course.
I now have a wonderful image of you in the gray suede jacket with puffed sleeves and stand up collar singing Eddie Rabbitt songs. I love it! Great post.
You went steady at 15? I am so impressed. But more importantly, I know what kind of gift to get you in a pinch – I have 2-3 Brother label makers stockpiled plus every size tape you could possibly need. Only catch is that I am too stingy to label everything (what a waste of tape!) so I am very selective and hence usually have quite a bit of inventory around. When they rolled out the Crack ‘N Peel (hello, how long did it take them to figure *that* out?!), it was heaven on earth.
I just need to chime in about the P-touch. How could I have gone as long as I did without knowing about this ridiculously amazing piece of machinery? I got my first about six months ago and now I think the only things not labeled in my apartment are my two cats.
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