Boys, Boys, Boys

I'd like to say I ran today, but I would be lying and no one likes a liar. I packed my stuff for the gym, but when the work day ended and it became time for me to go, I wasn't feeling it. I couldn't even convince myself to change into workout gear. I will do my little arm workout while I watch Thursday night TV (side note: why is 30 Rock on so late? I just space out through the other shows until it's 10 p.m.).

OK, onto 30 for 30. Today I get to tell you about how I am basically a loser when it comes to love. The post calls for me to write about my first kiss and first love. Technically my first kiss from a boyfriend came from my first grade boyfriend He had his ear pierced and most of our conversations consisted of deciding which earring he would wear the following day. He only had 3 so you would think this conversation was limiting. In the land of 6-year-olds, it wasn't.

You may be thinking, whoa, Cheryl is on the fast-track with boys. Not so much. I didn't have another legit kiss until I was 18. No high school boyfriend to speak of. (I'm not making excuses now--I was kinda gangly and shy--but our boy selection wasn't so great either.) But in senior year I finally gained some weight and was making better clothing and hair choices.

For love, I cannot say I was actually in love with someone until I was 20 and I have only been in love twice. I wanted to be in love, but I also knew I didn't want to kid myself or force a feeling that wasn't real.

It's funny--when I wasn't dating guys or falling in love, I always felt self-conscious about it. Like there must have been something wrong with me. But now, many years wiser, I feel OK with sharing these feelings and I'm kinda glad I was such a wallflower and didn't lose my virginity with some skeezy kid I didn't even like in his parents' basement freshman year or dated any old dude just to say I had a boyfriend.