Monday, February 28, 2011


Remember Maroon 5? In 9th grade they were the hottest band on the scene, or at least in my eyes they were. But why were they so hot over Fall Out Boy in my eyes? Because their lead singer, Adam Levine, was, you guessed it, JEWISH! Don’t worry, this blog is not about my crazy obsession with my boy Adam. (I only have a crazy obsession for Shia Labeouf, who I am still convinced will be my NJB, despite small infractions with the law.) This blog is about Adam Levine’s twin.

In ninth grade, while I was swooning over Jacob, my loyalties were not in check; I fancied myself more than one boy…or man. As I strolled down the cement hallways of Booker T. Washington on a pleasant morning, my breath was taken away by a man who not only resembled but could have made a living out of telling people he was Adam Levine.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember his name to give him a fake name, so we will refer to him as Mr. Biology. He was and probably still is the most delicious looking man to student teach in the science labs of my high school.

After spotting him that day, I passed by his classroom multiple times a day. I made excuses to visit the students in his homeroom. I smiled in his direction. I made jokes that weren’t funny. Any excuse to get his attention, I was using it!

To remember his amazing looks my friend and I decided it would be best to take a picture with him. Of course, once we had the picture it only made sense for him to sign it “Adam Levine” and not by his real name. Since then I have shown that picture to multiple people and told them that he was in fact the real Adam Levine.

Nothing ever came of my sweet thoughts about Adam, I mean Mr. Biology. Looking back at the picture, I am still not convinced that he wasn't indeed Mr. Levine, and maybe he will take over Shia’s spot as my NJB… Laurie Levine… Nanh, Laurie Labeouf still sounds better.

Monday, February 21, 2011

New School New Babe Pool

“Popular, I’m gonna be popular!” I repeated this line out of Wicked to myself every day in the weeks leading up to high school. And while maybe in my first year I was far from being known, I did take a major step up from where I had been.

For a recap on the boys I flock to: they are smart, funny, nice…sometimes and have a future. In order to find my new crush at my new school, I joined my Student Government Association (SGA) and I earned a spot in the ever so small speech and debate team.

As you can already guess the president of the SGA, the captain of the speech and debate team, the cutest senior and my new crush were all the same person. Not only was Jacob Wakes, all of the above, he also was in honor society, Model United Nations and several other activities I deemed prestigious in my mind. This handsome senior gave wings to my freshman heart.

Since I joined all of his activities, I got to know him a little better. And since we were given a school directory, I had a license to research even more about him. It wasn’t long before I found his address, google mapped his address, and proceeded to walk my dog down the long three blocks passed his house.

All of this so far seems like standard behavior for my course. But in the spring of 2005, I upped my game. Since speech and debate met after school for an hour every Thursday, and since he lived three blocks away, it only made sense for him to take me home. That Thursday morning I asked him for a ride home. When he so kindly said, “Of course,” I immediately called my mother to tell her to get lost. I made sure she knew that the time between 4:30 and 5:00 pm her car was not to be seen as that would be my estimated time of arrival.

Sadly, this is as far as my relationship with Jacob went: the occasional ride home and a pat on the back for a job well done and a walk with my dog by his house…every day.

Two years later I became really good friends with his sister. Some think it was to try and get closer to Jacob, but I wasn’t that devious. Besides, by then I had moved on with my search to find the next NJB.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Secret Valentine of Mine

For Valentine’s Day, I figured I should put this boat into a different gear. This time the tables turned. The boy liked me, and I had no idea until he wrote me a love letter…

Kelly Lesley was my best friend and she had a crucial crush on Warren Davis for two years, 6th and 7th grade. (She left my school in 8th grade to go to Catholic school.) I am still unsure why this crush was so crucial because nothing really ever happened. But, either way, she liked him about half as much as I liked Will Martin at the time, which, as you know, is A LOT!

In 7th grade Kelly and I were like two college kids. We somehow conceived the idea that it would be good to call both of our crushes to tell them of our love. The problem with Kelly was that she was not so good with the follow through. She left me with the duties of calling both boys.

Her heart pounded as the land line rang and rang and rang. Warren picked up. (As I look back on this experience, he sounded happy to know I was on the other end of the line.) I went on to tell him about Kelly’s feelings, but Warren was uninterested. I prodded him, “Maybe one day you might like her though? It could happen? Right?"

“No, Laurie I like someone else, but I guess maybe one day.”

After hanging up the phone, I could see the happiness drain from the balls of her cheeks. Her eyes stopped sparkling. I knew just how she felt. At 13, I had been there numerous times.

Now I should explain Warren’s position on the middle school food chain. He was not popular. He was on the football team. He was friends with all of the popular kids without receiving the king title, because if he wasn’t on the team, he would be lame. So he was almost popular.

A few days later a note was thrown at me from a popular boy. It had something about Warren liking me. I ignored it thinking it was another joke that the popular boys thought was funny. Warren began sitting at our lunch table. (I thought it was to get to know Kelly.) He sat by me in Algebra. (I was really just confused.) In 8th grade he sent me a Valentine. (I did not send him one.)

But on the last day of middle school, the last day of the hardest three years of my life, the last day of what I actually think is Hell, I got a card in my locker. I was leaving my private school to attend a public magnet school. The card said:


You are a great person, and you will be great at your new school. I will miss you a lot, but I am sure we will keep in touch.



Weird. We weren’t friends. And for the record, we didn’t stay in touch. I didn’t have his AIM. Two years later someone told me that Warren had liked me. Who knew? I didn’t.

The point is on this Valentine’s Day, I am celebrating all of my previous loves, those who I have loved and the one who liked me, and I am raising a glass that maybe one Valentine’s Day I will be with my NJB.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Letters to Will

Juliette Drouet, a French actress, was madly in love with Victor Hugo, the French writer. She and I share a bond which most women, I think, do not. Juliette was the mistress of dear Victor. She was forced to pretend she was his secretary and that she had no feelings for him. In one of her most famous love letters to Victor she said:

“You are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colors, but the sun himself, that illumines, warms, and revives! This is what you are, and I am the lowly woman that adores you.”

She felt that Victor warmed her heart, just as Will warmed mine. Because her love for him was forbidden, she was forced into recording her feelings in letters to him. Just the same, my love for Will was forbidden because of the thriving caste system in middle school.

In 8th grade I could no longer hide my feelings for Will that swelled in my heart and dreams. On an unwrinkled, wide-ruled piece of notebook paper I wrote:

Dearest Will,

You are one of the greatest boys to walk the halls here. You are not only smart and athletic, but you are also very kind. I have never met anyone like you. I look up to your accomplishments at school. Just being around you makes me smile. When I think of you, it almost hurts because I like you so much. I really like you.


Your Secret Admirer.

These were my sincerest thoughts, and were meant for only his eyes. Clearly, my plan did not thaw out as I thought. (He would realize I wrote it. He would be touched and realize his feelings for me. He would find me after the football game against Montgomery Academy that afternoon, and he would tell me he wanted to go steady with me.) Instead I put the letter in the locker next to his because my friends assured me that I was putting it in the correct locker. Obviously, I had to rewrite the letter to insert into the correct locker, along with writing another letter to Bobby, the class creep, letting him know the love note was not meant for him.

With all mistakes corrected, 8th period rolled around. As I entered English I could hear Karly King, Will’s girlfriend, reading my deepest emotions to her cohort of mean girls (who were only my friends during volleyball season).

They looked at me and began to laugh. I should have cried. I should have run out of the room and spent the next 45 minutes in the bathroom waiting for school to end. I should have ripped her blond hair and slutty clothes to shreds. I should have insulted her intelligence. I should have perished from the most extreme embarrassment for a 13-year-old to incur. But I, I am better than that. Juliette and I stand by our feelings. I proceeded to my seat, heart aching, fighting off any type of humiliation.

Perhaps those girls knew it was me who wrote the letter. Perhaps it was a sign when I slipped the letter into the wrong locker. But I stand by my actions today, just as I did then. Because if there is something I have learned from Juliette and her book of love letters to Victor, it is that feelings hurt more being held within than never being expressed.

Victor never left his wife. Will didn’t leave Karly. But I now have a little practice in writing love letters for when I get the chance to write the love of my entire life, my NJB.