Here it is.

I spent two to three years of my life in love with Jordan Knight. I begged my parents for magazines at Von's and cut out posters depicting various images of Jordan and his high hair. My neighbor, Abbey, and I would sit in her bedroom and listen to our tapes over and over again; memorizing every word to every song. My favorite being, "Cover girl."

I will admit to cheating on Jordan a few times with his band mate Donnie, although those times were short and meaningless. They were most often decisions made in a hurry, when another friend had already "called" Jordan for her own. My heart was always with Jordan.

When my family moved to Utah from California, I was devastated. I was almost eleven years old, and didn't want to leave my friends, kind-of boyfriend J.J. (aah...I can still recall his T&C tee-shirt and shell necklace as if it were yesterday), and life I had behind. As a way to help lesson the blow, soon after we moved to Utah my parents surprised my sister and I with New Kids on the Block concert tickets. We were so excited to watch them at the Marriot Center in Provo.

Now, 18ish years later...my love returned. And like the infamous Celine Dion song..."It was all coming back to me..."

I was twelve years old again, along with hundreds of other scantily clad old women. The proof of age was in the stretch-marked pot-bellies that hung out over every tight pair of Lees jeans in the joint. I was relieved to have worn a jacket to cover my own muffin pack up.

Especially when "It" happened. (aka...the nod.)

That young man there on the right in the above picture is my Jordan.

Near the beginning of the concert, I turned to my friend Tami, and let her know it was my goal to get some sort of special "something" from Jordan. She said, "Okay..." with an undertone of You're smoking something lady.

This is when the "Spirit Fingers/Jazz Hands" emerged....

Due to the fact that the range of dance ability I possess varies from "Tapping the circle step" to doing the "Roger Rabbit"...I was limited in my choices of fancy attention-seeking moves. So, I reverted to wiggling my fingers and screaming at the top of my lungs each time Jordan made his way to my part of the stage.

And then it happened...an opportunity presented itself like a beacon from a cloud:

The girl in front of me sat down to better examine her glow necklaces and possibly re-tie her shirt. Meanwhile, Jordan danced his manly body to my side of the stage and sat down with a clear look at moi. I noticed him looking my way (Although he basically had no choice due to positioning and the fact that we were on the seventh row - but I try not to focus on that detail). His eyes met mine, and I thought to myself, "There is no way this is possible. It is destined." I then did what any respectable adult would do in my situation - I glanced towards him, pointed to myself, and mouthed, "Me?"
All kidding aside people...he then shook his head "Yes."

I felt my heart race and then in a moment of really bad decision making - I did the "Spirit Fingers." I couldn't help it - my arms transformed into a giant uncontrollable wiggle machine that had no off button.

I guess it is suffice to say I didn't get the "Meet me Backstage Later" note I was hoping for after that.

I am pretty sure my partners' in crime (shown above) believed the "Spirit Fingers" part of this story. (Mostly because they have been lucky enough to personally view my dancing repertoire in various locations). I am not so sure they believe the love connection was restored, albeit momentarily, between Jordan and I. I am not so sure you will believe me either.

But, I believe me.

And for five seconds last Saturday night, I was twelve, and Jordan was my boyfriend.

Beat that - Haters.