Bikini-Clad

Disney. It's the cause of a hundred bazillion cases of naive women, and a couple of naive guys too. The story of love, however illustrated, is always romanticized to sickly proportions when presented to young girls. I grew up on Disney movies, with my favorite of which being Robin Hood. All the old Disney movies had a huge emphasis on true love, or some kind of romance in the story line. Nala and Simba, Jasmine and Aladdin, my boy lil' Hood and Maid Marian, the list goes on... I mean Prince Charming is basically the 'ideal' dude in little girls' heads. I idealized that persona growing up, and never had a girlfriend in high school because of it. I'd be talking about my most recent, and longest lasting, flame in this blog for the concept of first love; however, I seriously doubt anyone wants to read a whiny post-breakup blog about this girl. I will, however, blog about the first girl I thought I was in love with. Cindy Kaori Moromijya Fillhart, a half-Japanese American that stands at about five feet tall is the first girl that accepted my idealism about women. I could be myself around her, goofy and romantic and ... well really goofy. Explaining the summer romance I had with her would be difficult, but I can document the things we did. There were nights I'd skate across Chatan-Cho to bring zenzai and flowers, and there were others that she'd take me to the firework shop and we'd see who could get into the most trouble and get away with it. She enjoyed the overly romantic cheesiness I attained from my father; for instance: Cindy, "That's where I go to get my teeth done!" (Yes, an exclamation mark, as everything was exciting to her, always. Even dentistry offices.) Me, "Aw, that must be where you got that smile." Cheesy? Yes, but it worked to get the smile to come out every time. A lot of my metaphors were lost on her due to the slight language barrier, not that she couldn't speak English well, just that some metaphors are so American they're just tough to explain. An example of that would be that they don't have pennies in Okinawa, and saying, "If I had a penny for everytime I heard that..." just doesn't make sense to her. I didn't care at the time, I thought everything about her was perfect. I didn't connect with her on an academic level, and we didn't have deep talks about souls or the meaning of life. We just had fun. She was somebody I confided in with secrets, and told me anything and everything in a thick Jap-American accent. I thought it was love, but it was the perfect summer romance. First love? Probably not, but I'm sure I'll never forget her...
Had to include a picture: (hope she doesn't hate me for this...)