JTT & Candy

Thanks to everyone who left a kind word yesterday. It was sweet.

I'm flattered that many of you think I'm a good writer. Sometimes I wonder.

Moping around in my transitional adulthood state has made me really miss being a kid. In the past year, I've found myself being more and more nostalgic for my days as a tween (are people still using that word?) and teenager during the 1990s.

I've decided that since it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it, I'm going to start sharing my 1990s memories with you.

You're welcome.

Here is the first installment:

JTT & Candy



In 1995, I had a friend who was in love with Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

I mean, I was too. Pretty much every 12-year-old girl was at the time.

But this girl, Candy, was on the brink of restraining order love. She had more than a dozen JTT posters in her bedroom. She practiced french-kissing on ALL of them. She even autographed every poster, pretending that JTT had signed them.

Each poster had a story.



For a poster of JTT sitting on a red chair, Candy would tell people, "JTT gave me this signed poster after I ran into him at the mall and then we made out and he took me back to his place and we DID IT."

For a poster of JTT standing against a gray background, with his arms crossed, she would say, "JTT gave me this poster after I saw him at an Ace of Base concert in June. We made out and then we went back to his place and DID IT."

For a poster of JTT with a milk mustache, she told people, "JTT signed this poster after I saw him at the Bucs game last week. He bought me a hot dog and then we made out. After the game we went back to his place and DID IT."



All of our school friends were mesmerized by these stories, despite the fact that the plot lines were basically ludicrous. We lived in Tampa, while JTT was busy filming Home Improvement in Los Angeles. I highly doubt he was jet-setting it to Florida every weekend to hang out at the mall and attend pop concerts.

And would JTT really have had spontaneous sex with an overweight, acne-faced 12-year-old girl with braces anyway? I mean, let's be real.

What irritates me is that Candy, to this day, still insists that her stories were real and her lip-stained posters of JTT were autographed by the boy himself. I confronted her about it on Facebook.

What a crock. And no, I'm not jealous. Just realistic.

Seriously.