Ah, the world of firsts.
First blog post.
First book.
First time saying I’m an author.
But I digress.
Firsts. We all had them and hopefully will have tons more before we, you know,
check out.
First kiss? Mark. I was six and he had
no say in the matter. I cornered him in the room where we left our school bags.
I can still smell his fear, stale sandwiches and squashed bananas.
First date? Easy. Fenton. Ah, Fenton. I
have no idea what movie we saw but we were thirteen and we kissed for
forty-seven minutes straight without coming up for air.
First breakup? Oh, those teenage
breakups. I honestly thought I’d die. My internal organs would fail and I’d be
nothing more than dark matter roaming the universe. I also begged my parents to
let me go and live in Djibouti and practice my four words of French. They being
parents said no.
First time falling in love? That marrow
sapping feeling of hanging up the phone and not speaking to him until, like, Oh
My God, tomorrow. When your heart literally beats out a lonely tattoo on your
chest wall thinking about your wedding day.
First Hate? Crickets. And not the Jiminy
kind. I got swarmed by a black plague of
them when I was little. They were stuck in my hair. I swore I inhaled one. Their
little hooked legs on my scalp. If I think about this too long I’ll need to go
and lie down in a dark room, so I’ll stop.
What firsts do
you have?
I’m so happy to
say I’m a love addicted author who hangs out with sloths (more on them later) who
has managed to write her first blog post. I’m thrilled my first book Wife in Name Only is my first.
Thank you to all
you lovely people for being my first blog and website visitors.
