Construction sites

The coolest thing about having a dad who builds houses is that I grew up on construction sites. Some of my favorite memories as a kid involve me hanging around while all the work was being done. I vividly remembering following my dad’s electrician around, collecting all of his discarded wires. For some reason I thought that was so cool. And I felt like I was helping. To this day I’m still fascinated by all things construction related. I love tractors and bull-dozers. I love looking at blue prints and trying to imagine how things are going to look when they’re done. I was really into drafting when I was young and wanted to be an architect. My dad bought me a CAD program for my 1988 IBM. Yes, compared to the programs they have now, I was probably better off drawing lines in dirt. But, at the time, I was the coolest kid on the block. (Granted, I was the only kid on the block other than my brother and sister, cause we lived on a couple of acres in the middle of nowhere.) If only I had understood the true importance of being on construction sites as a kid. I mean, how sexy are construction workers?? A man with a hammer and a tool belt. There is almost nothing sexier. I just went to the site of my dad’s newest project with him. I noticed however, that none of his workers were attractive. Well, one of the guys was ok, but he’s a guy I grew up with (riding dirt bikes and water skiing on family vacations). He’s married with babies now. Well, I’m not sure about the married part. Definite about the babies part. So, even though he’s a framer (arguably one of the sexier construction gigs), he’s not even someone I would look at now. I wondered if my dad did that on purpose, or if it just happens if he has no good looking workers. If he had some hotties working for him, he’d show up and be like “Ah, daughter, you’re here. Again. Shouldn’t you be at school or, you know, anywhere else?” And I’d be like “Oh dad. You know how interested I am in your work. I just wanted to…” and then I’d trail off as the hot worker started hammering a nail, or laying down tile, or doing whatever sexy job he has. My dad knows me well enough to know that that’s why I’d be there more than every so often. And yeah, I’d use my position as the boss’ daughter to my advantage. Hey, construction worker. How badly do you want to keep your job? But, nope. That hasn’t happened. Yet. My old boyfriend, the Drywaller, was pretty sexy. Sometimes he’d ask if I wanted to go with him while he worked on a side project with him. “It’ll only take like an hour or so. Real quick. Wanna come?” What kind of question is that? Do I want to go watch you get all sweaty and intense as you work with your hands on the walls? Yes please. I think I’m going to start a business where I sell tickets to chicks to go watch hot construction workers work. I really think there’s a market there. One time the Drywaller came to It Couple’s house to patch a hole. My girlfriend’s and I watched him work. It was fun. Ahhh. Memories. Ok, so. I underestimated the coolness of growing up around construction workers. What else did I not appreciate when I lived it?

*Wearing a Catholic Schoolgirl Uniform. When I was in high school, I actually hated going out in public in my uniform. It was so nerdy to me. “But mom! Everyone will know I’m in high school!” The uniform itself wasn’t bad. Our pleated skirts were short. And we wore white shirts and only had to wear the blazer on certain days. We wore boxers under our skirts, and it was a competition to have the coolest boxers hanging out. Throw in the occasional knee socks, and it’s like we were living in a porno background. But, I didn’t get this at the time. My school was right across from UCLA, and as seniors, we were able to go there sometimes for lunch. I used to not go, cause I thought all the boys would think we were dumb little high school girls. On second thought, maybe, for my own safety, it’s better that I didn’t understand the appeal of the uniform.

*Having an older sister who went to USC when I was in high school. My sister went to USC. USC had hot guys. And college parties. I did not use this to my advantage nearly enough. I think she took me to one college party with her. I was sitting on the sofa, all awkward and nervous (I get very awkward and nervous when I’m in unfamiliar situations and around people I don’t know). A guy she knew came over and sat next to me and talked to me for a bit. My sister came over and sat between us, and reminded him I was in high school. Again, maybe it’s better I didn’t understand the appeal of being in high school at that point.

*Having a brother who parties. A lot. My brother is always going to parties or bars. He always invites me, but I say no. I’m more of a homebody. But, if I were to go to a party or bar with him, then I’d increase my likelihood of meeting people. Then again, he hangs out mainly in Huntington Beach bars, and I hate HB bars. And I think if I actually tried to talk to a guy, he’d come over to throw salt in my game. Or one of my adopted brothers would. Maybe I didn’t underestimate this one.

*Living so close to Oceanside. If I love Marines so much, why am I not hanging out down there more, where I’m more likely to meet some? Bad planning on my part.

*Going to law school. Guys love smart girls. I really need to figure out how to capitalize on that fact, without being pretentious or bragging. “What do I do? Oh, this little thing called law schoooool. Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.” Yeah, maybe that wouldn’t work. But, if I found a way to throw out the fact that I have a good head on my shoulders without making it so obvious, then I think that can work to my advantage.