This could be tricky. Below the age of twenty things have gotten a little fuzzy and disjointed.
Here's hoping that the annals of my mummy brain can grab hold of something.
My first boyfriend ...
Mmmmm. Are we talking first boyfriend or first proper boyfriend? There was James, son of a dentist, aged 5. Then Timothy, aged 11; we cycled around the block together. It was a big block. Then there were holiday romances with Stuart, Steve, Douglas and someone called Will. No, my first proper boyfriend was Simon. I was 16 and our relationship lasted four years. Not bad. And we are still in occasional contact courtesy of Mark 'Facebook' Zuckerberg.
The first person I kissed ...
When I was thirteen I was given my first taste of independence. My parents let me loose on an English version of Summer Camp. It was a week long PGL *Parents Get Lost* tennis holiday somewhere in Ipswich. Needless to say it never improved my back hand. Me and my gaggle of girl friends including Amanda Epstein, granddaughter of Brian Epstein, who managed the Beatles, spent the whole week eyeing up the talent. There was an end of week disco and we all wanted to cop off with someone. My someone happened to be an Italian going by the name of Marco. He had brown curly'ish hair. He couldn't slow dance. And that kiss. We were sat on a step somewhere and he turned to me and said "bacio". I didn't know what this meant. But I immediately found out when he lent his face into mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth. Then kind of left it there. No movement. A cold, limp Italian tongue. It was awkward. Odd. And put me off snogging for several years. I guess it was game set and match to Marco.
My first job
This was during the summer of '89. I'd just finished my A'Levels and needed going out money. I ended up with two jobs; cleaner and barmaid. As a cleaner I worked for an agency who sent me on jobs to fumigate flats before new tenants arrived. Thick marigolds, scouring pads and ALOT of all purpose cleaner is all that I can remember. And a particularly filthy bath. I didn't mind working behind a bar and chatting with punters. I could pull a mean pint. This was in the days before the current licencing laws. So I would work a lunchtime and evening shift. I didn't enjoy cleaning the ashtrays or smelling of beer. Nor was I keen on the deputy manager who had a disgruntled chip on his shoulder.
My first pay packet
Do you mean money in a little brown envelope or BACS transfer? If the former, then see above. But if its the latter then I guess my first pay packet would be aged 21. I was working in another dreary job as a night crew cleaner at the local supermarket. It was to pay off my student over draft. Yes, over draft not loan. I didn't see much daylight and I didn't see much of the money that meandered into my bank account. It was consumed by my debt. I think I managed a hair cut and some clothes out of my salary but that was it. I did pay off the over draft swiftly though. Unsurprisingly I didn't last long in that job. I was handed my P45 only after a few months. And that's another story ...
I bought my first record aged 13. The year was 1984. Hip hop, rap and break dancing had shaken up dance floors and shopping centres across the country. Do you remember Grandmaster Flash's White Lines? I recall dragging my bemused mother to see Break Dance The Movie that Summer; I sat transfixed at the electro rhythms, back spinning and body popping that danced in front of my formative eyes. There wasn't much of a story line apart from the usual boy meets girl and a lot of moon walking ensues. Anyway the first record I bought that year was I Feel For You by Chaka Khan; I love, love, love that harmonica riff.
In case you are not familiar here is Grandmaster Flash, White Lines.
My first holiday abroad
My first over seas adventure was to visit a very well to do Aunt and Uncle who lived in a rather ostentatious home on Hermosa Beach in California. I was only nine at the time, and so I went with my parents and younger brother. We flew on the now defunct Pan Am Airways and spent three weeks touring and absorbing the many facets of the Golden State. We visited San Francisco, San Diego, and drove through Death Valley into Nevada for a short sojourn in the electric neon overload of Las Vegas. Actually most of this went over my head. I was more interested in chocolate doughnuts, Macdonalds and Disney Land.
What age were you when you moved out of your parents home?
I was 21. I'd not long moved back home after graduating with a pointless degree from Lancaster University. My parents had divorced during my final year. So living back home with just my father proved rather trying. We were ships passing on opposite horizons especially given I was working night shifts three to four times a week. Anyway a move back to the family home after three independent years at University felt like a backwards step. So I moved out and into a very fun filled shared house with a bunch of other job shy twenty something slackers. Ever read Generation X? It let me continue my idle student existence.
And now I am tagging you ....
Flossing the Cat
Multi Layer Mummy