My Yaya - Part Un

Yaya was my first real boyfriend.

My parents had some friends from church, the McFartheads.  The McFartheads then had friends that came to visit them one summer from NorCal. 

If I had to guess I'd say it was around 93' because I remember right before high school I was consumed with getting my braces off.  My new found, non-erector-set, porcelain look became a level of confidence I really didn't need at the unripened age of 14.

The new family brought their three kids with them, one of whom happened to be Yaya; a half-n-half breed of buck I couldn't take my eyes off of.  Two years older than me, big brown cow eyes, long curly hair, full pouty lips, and this one crooked tooth that I just couldn't etch out of my memory.  I thought he was beautiful! 

I begged mom to invite the McFartheads over for dinner so they would be forced to bring their visiting trove of guests along with my Adonis.  I'm still never really sure why mom would give in to so many of my hairbrained schemes - but she went right along with this one hook line and stinker (me).  
Mom LOVED planning parties, or having people over at the house from church.  Mind you, these aren't the type of parties you're probably picturing, or would ever want to go to.  It was more like people from church and their bratty kids coming over for dinner or a bbq - no hard alcohol except for the occasional glass of my dad's famous box wine he was so fond of; or one of his Moosehead's.  My dad could give Maggy Griffen a run for her money with the Franzia for sure!

So the McFartheads were coming over along with Yaya and his family for a bbq at my house.  Stressed and excited - one tiny bouncing ball of blonde nerves!  Yaya was coming to MY house, and he was coming tonight! 

I wracked my little brain on what I would wear.  This was no mere task - I had been coveting the title of Fashionista since birth!  I remember my sister keeping copies of Elle, W, and Cosmo all over her room and taking them to the beach with us all summer.  Clothes, shoes, jewelry, hand bags, you name it - I wanted it ... and I wanted it all to match!  I guess you could definitely say I was a spoiled brat in that department.

Growing up I would purposly pick fights with mom just so she would take me shopping after.  Of course we never shopped top designers - in fact, I was such a label whore at a young age ... when mom wouldn't pay for the brands I wanted I would walk to the local thrift to find all the sad fugly clothes with labels no one wanted, take the labels off of them, and sew them back on new clothes.  I was a resourceful little $hit!

 - back to my original story -     (sorry sometimes I will have to go off on little tangents to help the main ideas come across more clearly.   Just saying I was obsessed w/ fashion from a young age doesn't quite give the picture of the insanity that is me prying "Guess?" triangle tags off a pair of mustard stone washed jeans and hot gluing it to my new family bargain center jean jacket.)

So the McFartheads, my family, and Yaya's family were all at my parents house for dinner.  Immediately I turned into such an attentive little poop, asking "Would you like something to drink?"   "Can I get anyone a napkin?"  you'd think I was applying for the Emily Post Triatholon? 

I overheard Mrs. McFart say they were going to take the kids to Magic Mountain and I think I had a mini heart attack.  I loved rollercoasters ... I loved Yaya ... could the two things converge?  The thought of being able to sit next to Yaya and accidently brush hands made me want to hump my tv remote harder that night than normal.  (yes I had a little mini tv in my room, and sometimes I could get skinimax all green squiggly, and sometimes .... I'd hump the remote)

The plan was set into motion and it became clearer and clearer that we would all be going to Magic Mountain together that Saturday.  I had just the outfit too!  I talked to Yaya a little here and there, tossed my hair, and pretended I was Kelly from 90210 flirting with Brandon... all the normal things a mindless 14yr old would do.  I had never really had a boyfriend and was dying to see what it was all about. 

It was the morning of and we were all paired perfectly - Yaya and I, my sister and her bf, and Yaya's sister and their cousin.  My hopes and dreams of being his coaster partner were becoming a reality. The day passed and being coaster partners soon turned into conveniently standing closer to each other in line, which then turned into .... "Hey maybe we should go on Viper again, hey we'll meet you guys back after lunch"  We ditched everyone else and went off on our own.  Holding hands was the extent of our shananagans that day though.

 - sorry to disappoint -

but I was brought up strict jesus freak from my parents; and the thought of doing anything remotely (what I considered) BAD [such a total joke to me now] made me fear I might spontaneously combust.  It's funny, I wasn't really scared for the sake of jesus ... I was more worried I'd have to either:
     A.) Listen to mom have Bitchfest 94' and hit me with one of my plastic hangers
           or worse
    B.) Not be allowed to see Yaya again because my parents locked me in my tower with a bible and some
          speghetti.

Now remember 94 wasn't the age of the smart phone.  We didn't have cell phones and ipoops to do video chat with.  Believe it or not, Yaya took my address and phone number down and we actually did the unthinkable!   We wrote each other letters with fun cartoons and I drew retarded pictures and we would talk on the phone for hours every night.  Never really talking about much really other than what we did that day, which for a jdub 9th grader ... wasn't that exciting.

My parents and the McFartheads got this bee in their bonnet about going to NorCal before the summer ended to go to the lake.  Yaya's family had arranged for us all to stay at their house. . . . .  and so the summer of the monkeys had begun for me in yet so many ways.