These Gents Cubed! Ivan³, John³ and Henry³…..Day 2 NaBloPoMo!

"Wookin Pa Nub in all da wong paces!" --Eddie Murphy as Buckwheat

Patterns, love them. I’m not mathematical at all, needing a calculator at yard sales to keep my addition and subtraction in check. But, I’m into patterns, symbols and over-analyzing connection when my husband might just say it’s COINCIDENCE. Now, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but when over-analyzing my life, past and present, certain symbols rise up like cream. I’ve wanted to detail this before and I’ve notice this pattern of boys/men in my life many years ago, but with NaBloPoMo, I’m digging deep for good blog posts. So, I’ve had two boyfriends in my past. The first at 21 (John) and the last (Henry) at 28 years of age. I married my second boyfriend. I’ve been attracted to dudes name “John” (and its various forms) and “Henry”. Ivans, not so much as you will read.

*************The Ivans***************** In third grade, Ivan T. stalked me. He was a tan, rotund, robust Guam boy with curls. I guess, he wasn’t my cup of Tang at that age and it didn’t last more than a month—him following me, that is. But, when a third grader says he’s going to marry you someday, with as much conviction that an 8-year-old boy could muster, a girl could freak out—at least I did. In high school, I was acquainted with an Ivan M., green eyes, nice Chamorro boy, not a great conversationalist, but again I wasn’t feeling his flow—his stalker tendencies came into full bloom when I was in college. He was a bag boy at one of the only major grocery chains on island. I worked at a clothing retailer (Sparkle—yes, that was the name—don’t ask) in a strip mall outside of the grocery store. He loved collecting shopping carts and slowly, creep by our store front—I would be the girl hiding behind mannequins. A few months later, the second Ivan’s buddy, who worked in the same store as a butcher, came a courtin’ too. Tall, dark and hella scary with his white apron stained with blood. His name? Ivan. (cue eerie X-Files music).

********The Johns ******* I’ll be more coy here. First boyfriend at 21 (I was a late, late bloomer with a very intimidating to all men of a father), a few dates with another John back when teased bangs were cool and rock bands like Firehouse, Stryper and Slaughter were on the airwaves, and then the final John who “thought” he liked me, when I knew he really liked MEN, but he himself was still not aware of this. (Later verified). ****************************The Henrys**************** Back when Guam still had the wonderful department store, Gibsons, I loved me a comic book sales clerk named, Henry. My parents would drop me off to “stroll” with my other 13 -year-old friends, and we would walk by the comics to see the cutie. Never spoke to him….. Then down the street in the village I grew up in, was a much older Henry. Handsome for sure, great hair, mestizo, macho and mysterious. Never spoke to him either, but gagged and stuttered a lot if he was near. There could be a fourth Henry, which only solidifies that Henry would be a man I married--again, my over-critical brain at work....but, this little Henry was a teenager and I was ten years his senior in our Tae Kwon Do class...already engaged to my one and only Henry....I set young Henry straight, right quick, roundhouse and ax kick included. Kidding.....

But, the most important man to me, is my husband, Henry. The one who matters in the end of this equation. So, there, the dudes I remember most in my girl meets boy world. ************************Day 2, National Blog Posting Month! Accomplished!******************

Esta Later!