Dangerous Liaisons Through the Ages

I consider myself an all-round blunderer. There isn't a situation I haven't bungled. Take matters of the heart. I learnt from the masters: JR and Sue Ellen, Bo and Hope, Mom and Dad. I mean, really, what hope did I have?

* Age 11: I sent my best friend's (BF) brother an anoynymous Valentine's card, saying I thought he was hot, etc, etc. It was part of a dare BF and I had devised, but no one actually thought I'd go through with it, least of all me. Can't quite remember what I wrote, but it must've been lurid because parents had to be called.

* Age 13: I broke up with a boy by giving him a handwritten note and running away before he could read it. From memory, the note said something along the lines of "It's not you, it's me," which I no doubt stole word-for-word from a soap opera. Strangely, he didn't make a passionate plea to get back together. We never spoke again.

* Age 14: My friends and I spent a football match ogling a male spectator, who appeared to be our age. I engaged in what I thought was artful flirting and thought male spectator was responding in kind. During an awkward conversation, he inexplicably gave me his phone number. A few days passed before I was able to quell the anxiety and call him. I called. And called. And called. No answer. Ever. I bet he did that to all the girls.

* Nothing happened when I was 15. Nothing I recall, anyway. But I made up for that in years to come. Read on...

* Age 16: A boy friend (not boyfriend) made me a cake for my birthday. Later, someone asked me what the cake tasted like and I said it was awful. What I didn't know at the time was that the boy friend overheard every ungrateful, blundergretable word.

* Age 17: I used my music theory notebook as a journal. (We never had to write stuff down in music. Just bashed at whatever instrument was available. Exams were, like, Name That Tune.) Cleverly, or so I thought, I never drew attention to this book, because if people knew what it was, they'd be trying to steal it off me. 'Cause that's what happens in high school. And if anyone were to read the journal, they'd find out I had a mega crush on a boy who was an entire year younger than me. But someone must've cottoned on, because one day that book was pilfered from my bag. I asked EVERYONE where the bloody hell my DIARY was. No one ever confessed, and the boy I liked avoided me until graduation.

* Age 17 (again): One of my most shameful blunders. I stole my friend's prom date a few months before the big night. He'd been bitching to me about what a bitch she was, and she'd been bitching to me about...I can't remember what. Anyway, one thing led to another and I kind of suggested to him that we should go together instead. He agreed. So we did. And it was years before I realized that I'd committed a blunderbitch of a mistake in taking my friend's date.

* Age 18: I wrote a two-page letter to a boy I liked which asked if he'd consider liking me too. I gave it to him and I ran away. (Hmm, what is it with this writing and running thing?) He was my age but so much more mature. He read the letter and later approached me to say he appreciated my feelings but wasn't sure we'd be good for each other. Funny, that! But he hoped we'd still go on being friends. Of course, I never spoke to him again out of sheer rigor mortis.

* Age 18 (again), a soldier I met in an airport transit lounge in Europe struck up a conversation. Before I knew it, he had my address. Within weeks, he was sending me letters, silverware (i.e. a bracelet; really quite lovely), and pictures of the deer he'd shot. I ended things in a very short note about not liking photographs of dead does.

* Age xx: I managed to marry someone who loves me despite my blunderability. But we're not really sure if the minister who performed the ceremony was a bona fide minister. He didn't know much about religion, though he knew an awful lot about wine. Still, we've got a certificate with our names on it, so we're keeping our fingers crossed that we're actually married.