Blogger Challenge: Day 3

Day 3: Your First Love

His name was Jose. No, seriously.

I grew up in Worthington, Minnesota, which has a significant immigrant population of Mexican, Hmong, and Laotian families in particular. So Jose's and Chue's were just as common in my classes as Jessica's and Ashley's. And I do remember being in the first grade and having a raging crush on a boy named Jose. I also remember that he had longish hair, perhaps even a mullet or (gasp!) a rat-tail. I don't think that I ever directly spoke to him, because I don't think he was in my class. What I do remember was finding out his name from people in the know, and grabbing an "M" encyclopedia during reading time so that I could read up on his home country. I learned every last thing that encyclopedia had to teach me about Mexico.

I don't know how long that little crush lasted, but he was the first in a line of long-haired boys who tickled my fancy. Thank goodness for the end of the 90s, for the band Hanson all growing up and getting haircuts, and that my Kurt Cobain obsession didn't last nearly as long as it could have.