Ha-muna Ha-muna Ha-muna

You've been there. In the presence of one who makes you feel like jelly, or leaves you speechless. When they look at you, you get panicky, or sweaty, or at least blush. Maybe the whole world goes quiet...and you can't hear anything. It's the mega-crush. The disabling effect of a person you find hot and cool at the same time.

I need to briefly mention here that this post is not about politics, religion, or anything that requires attention. Lately, I have been perusing blogs and learning about "post-modernism" (or to be more clear, how much I don't know about economics), and about pirates , and pregancy , but I am not that deep, creative, or energetic. I am tired. I work a lot in a high stress job and then drive home in an inferno. So...when I blog, I blog from the heart, since it takes less energy.

Ok, so back to where I started. The crush. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my fiance to pieces. He is awesome. But I will never forget that feeling of being in the presence of "him". I love that it was high school, and I was a totally hormonal virgin. But that kid made a mess out of me. It was humiliating, but exciting and the source of hours and hours of conversations among my friends. It was all I thought about.

I hated the girls he liked. I loved his clothes, his walk, his everything. And for the record, I loved his mini-mullet. Oh yeah. 1988-1991. That kid was all that to me. And few others I think. But I was entranced. Could not be dissuaded. Not even when I made out with a cross-eyed jack-ed up grill in tight highwaters behind a hot pink house...oh no. My heart was in being stomped on while "he" made out with the school whore in someone's parents bedroom, and probably much more.

I was painfully aware that acne, a long spiral perm that looked like snakes, and braces did not add up to "hot" in his world. With my dorky ways and ghetto mentality, I can't believe he overlooked me.

Once, when he looked at me, and we held eyes for a moment, I felt so weak and pathetic. I could have died right there. I'm sure he knew and thought it hilarious. I love that he knew. Everyday. I know he knew. And he gave me all my Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles moments. I'm glad I didn't have the birthday cake ending. It motivated me to have some dignity and self-respect in my future pursuits. Although I must admit, no one, has ever, ever, made me feel quite as powerless. What is that? Teenage stuff?

Today, I have no idea what his "ha-muna" ranking would be. My guess is, not so much. He wasn't that tall or beefy. I don't recall him being an intellectual. I know he moved on from his baby mama. Point is that sometimes I imagine this super trashy daytime reunion where I am hot and he is not, and I have one of those "Ricki Lake" moments where I sas-chay on by him, wagging my tail in some ridiculous outfit, and say "look what you missed". But then, no matter how it turned out, it'd be the end of a dream, a fantasy. I want to remember him as cool and hot, unattainable. Not broke, or balding, or just not so interesting. I want to imagine a kid that makes me feel like I am in the presence of something beyond me.

There was a hot Maori guy, and a bartender named Bobby "Noofellinni", and a professional soccer player who had a stomach that makes me melt, but those are the only three in real life that have even challenged that feeling. And I know that if I put them in a line-up with "HIM", they are all a million times hotter, but I would still feel like the biggest dork in front of "HIM". WHat the f*ck is that?

And Becca, Rocky, Lu, if you comment here... no need to name him. We know who he is. I don't need him googling himself and finding this. I just know he googles himself, of course he does. Right?