FIRSTS

      

 

This painting is a first for me in a few ways. It is my very first acrylic painting. My first time ever painting on canvas. (When painting with watercolors, a special paper is used...not canvas.) My first time painting only flowers that had no vase or were not part of a larger scene.

 

I look at this and can honestly say I am not embarrassed by it. I like it! I really like it! ::giggle:: However, I am sharp enough to know it is not a work of art that will leave anyone breathless. But, that is okay. It is, after all, a first attempt. ::smile::

 

Firsts. They occur all the time and in all manners. Some are momentous occasions. Others are quickly forgotten. Sometimes we wish we had never had a particular first. And as this busy brain o'mine gave thought to this, I came up with a few firsts I have had in my life.

 

First kiss: This was too cute. I received it from a boy named Mark Jacobs in grade school. I believe I was in fourth grade. Recess was over, the rush of kids was ascending the steps to the second floor of the school, and Mark turned around and plastered a kiss on my lips. He was immediately seen by a teacher, and he got in a lot of trouble. ::grin:: Geez, the kid had already given me a heart necklace with little rhinestones on one side of it and had gone to the trouble of having it engraved with my name. His little smooch hardly seemed like a big deal to me. That teacher felt differently about it.

 

First time driving a car: I was with my mother. I almost mowed down the neighbor's tree in their front yard. Yes, it was that bad.

 

First sexual experience: It was pretty tame. Unfortunately, it was with a guy who suddenly began wearing Hush Puppies. ICK. End of relationship. I could not get past the shoes issue. Mind you, "sexual experience" does not mean who ran off with my cherry. I can remember that in extreme detail, and I am not sharing the specifics except to say he was gorgeous, hot, very tall, built to beat the band, and a stereotypical jerk of a jock. LOL!

 

First apartment: Ugh. That arrangement lasted only a few months. I moved in with a girlfriend who had been living there by herself. My arrival just happened to coincide with the explosion of fleas her dog had so thoughtfully deposited all over the place. Throw in that this gal was more interested in picking debris out of her baggies of pot than she was about ridding the apartment of the fleas clinging to our bodies and furniture, so I beat a hasty retreat back to Mom and Dad's to live.

 

First border search: Oh, this was a joy. Five of us in a red Firebird (we took turns sitting on that damn hump in the middle of the back seat) traveling to Toronto, with a stop planned at Niagara Falls. As we were approaching the border from the United States into Canada, the girl mentioned in the above "first" said, "I sure hope they don't stop us for a search, or they might find my pot." ::blink:: The ding brought POT with her? And as Lady Luck stepped aside to see to it that we all battled the overwhelming urge to soil our panties out of fear, the border guard asked us questions and decided he did not like our answers. Would we please pull over to the building to our right for a search? While our purses were being rifled through by a couple of security guards, the car was being searched by two more. In my head I was rehearsing what I would say to my parents from jail when allowed my one phone call. The pot went undiscovered, and we were back on the road to Toronto. And we did not speak one single word to that dumb chick for two days. Good thing for her she had brought along a friend, because she was the only one who would talk to her.  

 

First person I was involved with to whom I said "I love you": My hubby! I was a wreck. I was nervous. I was scared. I think it helped that he had already said he loved me...and that he kept badgering me to reciprocate. ::chuckle::

 

First child: Our precious son born on Easter Sunday.

 

First dog I owned as an adult: Our now one-eyed poochie. The diabetic dog who requires two insulin shots per day. The dog who had her hysterectomy (okay, she was spayed) and became so out of control afterward that she had to be put on hormone replacement therapy. I am serious!

 

First event that shattered my heart into a million pieces: Daddy's passing on January 6, 2002. Still trying to piece it back together.

 

I could go on with this list forever. It is already longer than I anticipated. Oops. My bad. But, I bet you pause and think of a few firsts of your own!

 

"Never let a fool kiss you or a kiss fool you." ~Mardy Grothe