I could make a rather boring post about how my exam went well, but no! FLASHBACK FRIDAY FTW!

This song holds a very specific memory for me, and the jury is still out on wether or not it’s a good one.

It’s 1998. Christmas is approaching, and it’s the annual Christmas dance for all the high schoolers (as well as everyone else, really, but mostly high schoolers go to those things). I’m there. It’s the first time I go to any sort of dance. I’m madly in love with a boy in my class. He probably only hardly knows my name. Anyway. Going to this dance, I harbour no hope that anyone will ask me to dance, because I’m a dork and I have lots of zits and I have no fashion sense. So what do I do? I go up to this guy and ask him to dance with me. And the song that starts playing? Yep: LeAnn Rimes - How do I live.

Ok, so the dancing itself, that’s a good memory, no doubt about it. My first ever slow dance, that’s one for the diary, right? The manner how that dance came to happen though - not so good a memory. Honestly, sometimes I don’t know what gets into me. Seriously, I still blush when I think about it - I almost didn’t want to tell anyone about it, but now that I sort of have (haven’t published yet, obviously) it feels ok. Liberating.

And you know why I’m ok with telling people about this happening of my sad teenage years? Because I’m married now. Yeah. No matter how much of a loser I was back then, I’m married now, which makes me NOT A LOSER. In love, that is. I might still be a loser in other aspects of life.

(And my fashion sense still sucks.)