this woman’s work

Stolen from my flist this is a meme about highschool:
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When I was in 9th grade I was in love with Ron Glick. In 8th grade I had loved Scott Cordial and then Chris Pezzano but this was nothing to how much I loved Ron Glick.

The 9th graders had their own building that year because the school district was juggling student bodies trying to make an over-crowded system work without raising taxes. It was nice to be by ourselves for the first year of high school, especially for me because I was a year younger than my classmates (I skipped 4th grade) and I was, ahem, a late bloomer (I had no boobies). Michelle Creighton used to stroll down the hall in really tight Calvin Kleins singing that song by Billy Squier, “Everybody wants me!” and I would look at her shaking her little butt and just hate myself. And her.

I loved Ron Glick for two reasons: 1) I figured he was a little bit funny-looking and so maybe he would love me back because probably he wasn’t in huge demand (kind of like loving Roger the drummer in Duran Duran instead of wasting my time pining after Nick or John), and 2) when I sat behind him in math class and noticed the way his broad shoulders stretched his pin-striped oxford shirt, well, my tummy started doing flip-flops.

One day my big sister, Erica, came home and said that she had seen Ron Glick outside the high school in a car with a bunch of friends and that she had talked to him! And he had told her that he was going to say hi to me the very next day!
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Exorcising demons and stuff. It’s the theme for the week. I wrote this about nine years ago.
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I’ve been cleaning out computer files and deep in the documents folder I found this picture. The boy on the far right is my very first ever boyfriend. First hand-holding, first slow dance, first kiss, first sex, first everything. He was also the inspiration for my reluctant groupies article in Bitch and this is a pic of his band, Control. They did very well for themselves, toured with The Swans, I think? I don’t know. That was when we were periodically sleeping with each other but not really speaking.

Anyway, this is a picture I didn’t remember saving and I’m not even sure where I got it. From Carty’s site maybe. Carty is the one in the middle. I wanted to write about this boyfriend because I haven’t yet and he’s been cropping up in my mind now and then. He showed up in a dream the other night; he stepped right out of a wall before fading back. I met him in this dream with the same mix of familiarity, anticipation and dread with which I always met him back when I was 17.
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