Individually Collective Blogging: First Crush, a retraction

Dear Readers:

I want to apologize for my previous post regarding Mr. Tom Cruise as my very first crush. You see, sometimes the memory become clouded a bit as we age and we tend to forget the more formative moments in our lives. As I was recounting to my mother the fantastic revelation that Christina and I should follow suit with Melissa and Amy’s quest of blogging on the same random topics she informed me that Mr. Tom Cruise was, in fact, not my first crush.

It was rather, Carlos Zaldevar.

Carlos Zaldevar, a particularly exotic name you’re thinking, no doubt. You’re also thinking that he must be my preschool playmate who I fell in love with but then chickened out when we were dared to kiss on the playground because I realized that even he had cooties (since all boys did). However, you have forgotten one particularly important fact. As a child, I was not interested in boys. I was interested in men. Actually, Carlos Zaldevar was my father’s particularly insane co-pilot.

(Yes, pilot. I was still into the flyboy thing.)

The Carlos Zaldevar crush happened a full two years before I ever knew Tom Cruise existed. And let me tell you, the sun rose and set in Carlos Zaldevar. I was just sure that we were going to run away together, get married, and live happily ever after. My infatuation with Carols probably stemmed from the fact that while I was a mere five-year-old he spoke to me like I was a “real person.” Five-year-old girls love that. There was nothing ridiculous that I could possibly say, and he always listened intently to my stories. I should also mention that I probably only saw Carlos a grand total of about eight times in my entire life.

I should also mention that when I went to Disney World and Chip the Chipmunk (who I was also particularly enamored with) signed my autograph book “To Whitney…. Love, Chip” I was sure that the man in the Chip suit was actually Carlos Zaldevar.

Additionally, there was an incident where I fell two flights of deck stairs and cracked my head on the cement pad below (my friend Michelle, the one who later shared my crush for Mr. Cruise, will tell you that she only remembers me screaming with Kraft American Cheese in my mouth). While this incident might seem completely irrelevant to the crush I had on Carlos Zaldevar, it is, in fact, perfectly relevant. You see, we were supposed to be going to meet my father at the airport, which meant that there was a slight chance that I might get to see my love! However, I had blood dripping down the back of my head and a tear-stained face. That is certainly no way to go meet your future husband. I was mortified. In the end, I have a vague recollection of being able to compose myself enough to go to the airport and somewhere there’s a dark and subtle moment where I got to see Carlos through the car window. Although, this might just be my memory fading again and creating stolen moments where there are none.

So, my friends, there you have it. Carlos Zaldevar was truly my first crush. I promise, no more retractions.

  • Oh you should so make sure Carlos gets to see this post! Do you know where he is now? I love the “kraft american cheese” in your mouth part!

    • Sadly, we don’t know what happened to him. My father thinks that he’s probably in a Mexican prison for drug running. He really took the crazy flyboy persona to the max.

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