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I wanted to be American! I was 12 years old. It was around Christmas time. I lived in my native country (somewhere in Southern Europe). I had just finished watching Home Alone; and then I lay on the couch to watch The Good Son. His face was beautiful and his American accent delightful. I was in love with Macauly Culkin. It was infatuating, particularly because the next day I was going to America! At that age, I didn't notice many boys and was unaware of my sexuality. But when I wrestled with American boys in Floridian waters - and one olive skinned blonde wrapped my ears in his hypnotic twang while squeezing me with his thighs, "Hey I've got you", I wanted from that moment on to be American. It's funny how those early experiences of envy profoundly effect your psyche to the point of dedicating the rest of your life towards moving to America. That desire has long gone. But just because of boys, white picket fences and brown paper grocery bags filling the trunks of estate cars, the blonde olive skinned Floridian boys were as tempestuous as freshly baked baguettes. |