April 12, 2002 // 8:05 p.m. // A wave of mutilation

Eck. I hate my crummy mood swings. Blame it on a crush hangover. Speaking of crushes, the weirdest thing happened to me last night.

It was a "This is Your Life" in crushes. I kid you not. At the time it was very painful. I already felt crummy from something else.

All I know is my mind suddenly went blank, then it switched into some weird auto pilot mode. Yes, a montage of crushes.

Every girl I've liked and crushed on flashed through. All of them. Alisa, the cute spunky brunette from first grade that I was able to get a picture of, but lost it years later.

Charity, the girl who was wise beyond her years. The affection of the class went directly to her. White hair. Pretty smile. An activist even as a third grader. The girl I owe much of who I am today to.

Kaity, the girl we crushed on in 4th grade. She was a year older, beautiful. Many a time friends and I would talk about her. Years later, we spoke, as we attended the same high school. Mucho reminiscing. Always stayed pretty.

Jesselynn, the blonde tomboy who spoke with a rasp and laughed with a yelp and a rhythm. We saw each other in 9th grade when she visited Kaity from California. She hugged me, we talked, and poof. She was gone.

Carissa. Far to good for us. We'd ride our bikes past her house, which coincidentally I passed today. I still have a photo of her.

Jennifer. The first girl that I knew was "out of my league." Even as a third grader she was high maintenence. Always in dresses. Never got dirty. Was "too cool for third grade."

Holly and Jackie (or as she later went by, Jacquelyn) were also too cool for school. With the assistance of my dad, the class built a geodesic dome. The Salt Lake Tribune came around, and snapped a picture of Jackie inside of it, because she was pretty and dressed in a bright blue. With Holly, we'd just sing, "Have a Holly Johnson Christmas. It's the worst time of the year."

Elayna. She would chase Paul and I around the playground in first grade. We'd "date" and "breakup" and chase each other again. I saw her in ninth grade, still recognizing me, still crushing on me.

Erin M. The intellectual. My co-conspirator. The girl who looks the same now as she did in third grade. The girl who "let" me play basketball when she wanted to stay inside and read, or chase guys around on the playground. Still damn smart. Wrote for the paper. Edited her yearbook. Even got into the sports thing and ran track.

I could go on, but basically every crush from kindergarten and up flashed through my head, each taking about two seconds up. It lasted five minutes, and every moment was a bad moment. I was living a real life nightmare.

I tried like hell to shake this montage from my head. I ctried concentrating on anything, but it kept rolling. I finally just sat back and held back the tears of seeing the instances of all of these former crushes doing something that apparently has stuck with me, even though I hadn't recalled some of them ever happening.

And then, it ended as quickly as it came.

I can talk about it now, but last night, it was very real. All I could do was stare straight ahead with everything tuned out. I couldn't shake this rollercoaster. I had to ride it out.

And that made me emotional last night. More unstable than I already was. The slightest thing could have toppled me either way, so I called it a night before anything did.

And I fell right asleep. Something I didn't think I'd be able to do.

This weekend, we'll look for a car. It may help me slump out of the rut I'm in. Who knows, the next entry may not be so self-serving!

Jason

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