Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Since U Been Gone

News of The Former Loves of My Life has been cropping up all over the place recently.

I actually had a Former Love of My Life sighting on New Year's, when Is-He-Or-Isn't-He? Mark showed up as a friend of a friend at the party of a friend of a friend (try figuring the odds on that one). It was as pleasant an experience as I could have hoped for in a random and unprepared-for encounter with a Former Love of My Life; he seemed genuinely happy to see me, and I felt genuinely comfortable jokingly-but-not-really-jokingly admitting that my 19-year-old self had a major jones for him. (And, for the record, he so totally is— just my luck — but so totally was not the night I took him to my freshman year sorority formal.)

I caught wind of the first-ever Former Love of My Life, Skirt Wearing Joey, at Christmas, when my cousin said, completely in passing, "I can't stay for dinner. I'm picking up Joey and taking him to a meeting." My audible gasp was (thankfully) drowned out when my mom said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Skirt Wearing Joey?" as if she knew him personally or had actually witnessed his skirt wearing (even I never witnessed his skirt wearing, and though tales are told that involve a broomstick skirt and pigtails, I refuse to believe what I never saw with my own two eyes.) I asked if I could tag along, and was told that, no, I couldn't, because the destination was an AA meeting; Skirt Wearing Joey was fresh out of rehab. Fabulous.

So that's two down.

Hearing about those boys makes me wonder whatever happened to the other Former Loves of My Life. I was devastated when Jake the Underage Mormon just up and moved to Utah with his huge Mormon family the summer before I went to college. He had curly hair and played the accordian and was just adorable enough to convince me that leaving school for 40 minutes to go to Taco Bell wasn't going to ruin my chances at getting into a good college. We went on a few "actual dates," which consisted primarily of me driving him to McChevron (he didn't have a license) and buying him caffeinated beverages. Oh, the Sin! Knowing the way things go for me with regards to the Former Loves of My Life, Jake the Underage Mormon is probably traipsing through Botswana on a mission from Jesus, or married, or both.

And of course there's the Former Love of My Life, the one who sets the standard for all future Former Loves of My Life: Mike "I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness" Wheeler, who, when faced with the choice between me and a witch, chose the witch. And I'm not namecalling here; I got dumped for an actual, practicing witch, the kind of person who spells magic with a "k" and sometimes uses it as a plural noun, the kind of person who says she's a vegan but has no scruples about small-animal sacrifice, the kind of person who can turn people to the dark side (thus handily providing me with the timeless line, "Yeah, well at least you were never in love with a warlock!" That shit never gets old.)

I'm still awaiting a report from Kara about her visit last weekend with Pat. (He doesn't get a nickname because I don't know how to spell that stock "angels-ascending-from-above" sound they use in movies.) I'm guessing the news does not fall in my favor, but seriously? At this point, I would be relieved to hear "he has a girlfriend". As long as he's not spreading the Word of Our Lord, kicking a nasty cocaine habit, wearing jewelry that involves pewter talons and crystal balls, or doin' it with dudes, I'm in good shape.

... I must admit, though, I'm a tiny bit curious to see if he — or any potential Former Loves of My Life, for that matter — can top what I've already put up with.

The race is officially on, boys!