Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

My First Survey

2003-08-05
My first survey, shamelessly cribbed from an email:

1. First nickname: Nibblerann. I am sorry to say that I wanted to be a rabbit when I grew up when I was four years old. My real middle name is Ann and it became one word. The screwed up thing is that my parents agreed to call me this�because when I think about it now it seems kind of dirty. Maybe it�s just me.

2. First Best Friend: Shantel Williams. She had the My Little Pony castle and I had the ranch. It was practically destiny. The other thing I remember about her was that she wore a bra in the third grade. I could have gone without until college.

3. First Organized Sport: I played for a softball team called the Bumblebees from age four to nine. That is the most fun I have ever had playing sports. We were all learning together so it didn�t matter too much if you were any good and they didn�t even tell us the score until the end. Plus, we had the best rally cheers ever heard in Des Moines, IA.

4. First Record: My grandmother bought me Madonna�s Like a Virgin for my seventh birthday. Looking back I am SHOCKED that she bought it for me because my grandmother thinks Perry Como is racy. But it is what I asked for�she shouldn�t have worried I didn�t understand the lyrics on that album for a couple of years. But I still have it. Thanks Grammy.

5. First Boyfriend: Mike Wilson, second grade. He also turned out to be my first kiss. Important relationship that lasted three whole days. He had a blond haircut and looked a lot like Dennis the Menace without the stupid striped t-shirt.

6. First Job: Athlete�s Foot. At the Supermall. The only thing good about this job was that I was the only girl. And all of our customers were men. Actually, that isn�t that bad of a perk.

7. First Car: 1988 Ford Tempo. Beat to hell because my mother and sister had it first. But still really nice for a car that my dad sold me for 100 bucks. Died an ugly and horrifying death by losing its power steering and power brakes at the same time. RIP Flash.

8. First Date: Drive-in movie, sophomore year. I was supposed to be out with some friends but I lied. If my mom reads this I am too old to be grounded anyways. We smoked cigarettes (another lie!), made out in his VW van and watched a movie that I don�t even remember. Then he started going out with a cheerleader. Rat bastard.

9. First Mode of Transportation Not a Car: Daisy Duke Big Wheel with Spinout Lever. Best Big Wheel EVER. Thought the lever was a break, went flying down the hill and yanked it, did donuts into the yard. Rinse and repeat. After watching that my grandfather swore I would never drive his car. Fortunately, he is old and he forgot. If I were still small enough to ride a Big Wheel I would still ride this one.

10. First Fight With Parents: If you don�t count squabbles over cookies and bedtime when I was little then my first real fight with Mom and Dad came over me calling my dad a dildo. When I finally figured out what a dildo was I understood their point better. When I found the drawer where my mom keeps hers I understood why she was laughing so hard as she yelled at me.

11. First Broken Heart: Cutest boyfriend I ever had (to this day) just stopped calling me one day. Didn�t even have the courage to just break up with me. I had to call and break up with him. Figured out later that he was spending all his time with his boyfriend. Would have been useful information.

12. First Drunken Experience: Went over to my sister�s friend�s house, Becci. Drank rum with her and her mangy boyfriend and his buddies. Drank so much run that I took a shower with her cat and ended up with scratches everywhere. Cats do not like water. More good information. I still can�t drink rum and it has been almost ten years.

13. First Love: High school. Rebel boy who was way too unobtainable for my own good. Was supposed to take me to prom. Bailed with very lame excuse. I ended up going anyways with some one more fun but still wanted rebel boy. Took me a long time to learn my lesson.

8:41 a.m. :: comment ::
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