Thursday, July 15, 2004

And one Kah-nee-Ta...!

Curt & I began dating one year after American Pie came out.  I’m sure we rented it on one of our date nights, which inevitably led us down the merry path of recalling our own youthful forays into sex and the loss of our virginity.  He had a huge crush on Alyson Hannigan  from her Willow days on Buffy (which he quit watching when she went gay).  Like her character on American Pie, I too played the flute in high school band.  Sadly though, I never made it to Band Camp so missed out on the apparently traditional sexual hijinks that occurs at all such camps.  Curt says it was especially popular at the church youth group camps he attended.  Heh.  
But anyway.  My equivalent “band camp” stories came after high school…. When my brother got me a job working at the same little resort in the middle of an Indian reservation he & some friends were working at.  The seasonal summer staff was basically college age kids and slightly older drifter-type losers who all lived in company housing on site.   Even though it was technically a “dry” reservation (besides the resort) it was legal to consume alcohol in your own home.  Which we did.  Boy did we ever!  Even those of us technically underage.  There just wasn’t much else to do besides work, and party.   Take American Pie, mix it with Dirty Dancing and that about sums up my 2 summers working at Kah-Nee-Ta.  I know it sounds sappy as hell but I truly came of age up there in the desert.
So Lorn’s recent tales about lifeguards, alcohol and sleeping naked over at Buddha Stew is bringing back some of those memories.  The ones Curt calls my “And one time…. At Kah-Nee-Ta….” (in perfect Alyson Hannigan speak) memories.  Now I was not a lifeguard.  Nor did I sleep with any.  And contrary to what you think I was not a total drunk, either.  In fact, I’m proud to say that while I imbibed quite often I never got so drunk that I blacked out, or did anything I regretted in the morning.  But I did learn my limits when it came to booze.  I learned to drink responsibly, and learned to say “no” and mean it, even under the influence, and how to stick to my guns despite intense pressure by ardent suitors to say “yes”.  I learned to have sex on my terms (responsibly) or not at all.  
One day maybe I’ll write a book about it.  But I’ll just stick to one story today, speaking of lifeguards.  There was one guy, I’ll call him Mike - who was pretty cute in a buff, Mid-Western wholesome Polish kind of way.  In his other life he was a Serious Swimmer.  And like many Serious Swimmers he shaved his legs (and arms, I guess) which made him the butt of many of the other hairy manly men on staff.  Well, that and the fact that he was Opie-like naïve and a total goody two-shoes.  He did not drink. Or smoke.  And he was, in fact a virgin.  But the funny thing was, he would typically capture the interest of some young hotties down at the pool during the day while on shift and invite them up to the staff housing to party at night.  At which time my brother and his friends would proceed to woo them away from Mike, who by the end of the night would be left lost and alone, once again.   They weren't as stupid as the other guys who gave Mike flak for his hairless condition.  Oh no, they knew on whose side their bootilicious bread was buttered.  Mike was the Man, man!  But still, poor Mike.  I wonder if he joined the priesthood or something.  
Speaking of boozing it up, have I mentioned yet that I have NEVER, EVER wanted a drink more in my life than I did the other night?  I usually don't drink more than one glass of wine a week (unless we go out or are socializing, which is a rare event).  But something about knowing that I COULD NOT have a drink for the next 9 months brought up hitherto unknown lush tendencies.  The thought of hot cocoa topped with Amaretto made me drool... and the site of a case of Henry Weinahrd's beer on sale at the grocery store about brought me to tears.  I'd heard pregnant friends complain about this phenomenon but I thought I'd be immune.  ***sigh***
In other news, I told my boss & 2 coworkers who were here of my good news this morning.   I think it went well.  My boss asked what "my plans are" and I told him it was too early to tell.   To which he said, "yeah, I wouldn't believe you anyway".  'Cuz you know, about a third of every other woman he's ever worked with said they'd come back to work and then changed their mind (including his wife).  So much will depend on Curt's working situation & how much we can get ahead financially before then.   So we'll see.

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