Last night a lifelong dream of mine came true. I went to a New Kids on the Block concert. Now, leading up to the concert most people laughed when I told them what I was going to do. I have to admit that I was a little embarrassed myself, but this was a chance I could not miss. However, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to experience.

You see The New Kids on the Block marked a very important period in my life. They hit it big in 1989. My obsession with NKOTB (as Tiger Beat affectionately referred to them) triggered the movement from little awareness of the fact that I was female to an obsession poured into five boys from Boston (Joey, Jordan, Donny, Danny, and Jonathan). We are talking about the wholehearted devotion of a 7-year-old girl, not a thing to be taken lightly. The fact that I had all five dolls, the sleeping bag, and posters covering my walls was only a symbol of the sheer unadulterated love that my heart held for them. I would give anything to find the diary I kept where I described what would happen when Jordan and I finally met. I’m pretty sure it involved him agreeing with the fact that I was prettier than Brooke Murawski, my on-again off-again BFF at the time.

Sadly, my love affair with the New Kids was to be short lived. As they gained in popularity their music grew more and more risqué. While I had no idea what any of it meant (and maybe still don’t), my mom sure did. She gently told me to ask Jesus what he would think of me listening to those songs. I still feel fairly convinced that even Jesus loves the song Hangin’ Tough, but mom managed to successfully guard the purity of my ears for a little while longer. I can’t remember it very clearly (probably repressed painful memories), but shortly afterward, the New Kids broke up. A world that was once painted with colorful oversized t-shirts and rattails suddenly went grey. And it stayed gray for 15 years.

Six months ago I heard the news I’d been waiting 15 years to hear. New Kids on the Block were reuniting and going on tour. I kid you not, I marked the day that tickets were going on sale on my calendar, and logged into Ticketmaster first thing in the morning. With a defiant nod to my scorned 7-year-old self I purchased two tickets.

If you think the power that emanates from a stadium full of adolescent girls toward a pop star is powerful, you cannot begin to imagine the sexually charged energy of 20,000 women (not girls) who put their love on hold 15 years ago and suddenly have a second chance. A sold out stadium full of 25-40 year olds who dusted off their club clothes and busted out the Wonder Bras (which THIS time, unlike in 1989, they can actually fill) is a powerful thing.

I am not pointing fingers. I place myself squarely in the midst of the frenzy, except I was wearing a vintage New Kids t-shirt borrowed from a friend. When those five middle-aged men rose from the floor on stage I jumped, screamed, and waved my hands fully regressing into the obsession. It tapped into something powerful for me. Last time these guys were on my radar, I was a young girl without any ability to actually get to a concert, much less convince Jordan or Joey what a good girlfriend I could be to them. I was powerless to do anything about my love but ache. But THIS time was different. I am a grown woman. I have a job and can buy my own tickets. I go to seminary and pick up Masters degrees. Sometimes I stay out really late with my friends and nobody can tell me not to. If I bumped into them, and didn’t fall down from shock, I might actually be able to carry on some form of witty conversation with them. At least I like to think so. I believe there was something in that for all of us there. It’s as if we got to travel back into time, but with more power.

I’m not quite sure what to do with New Kids on the Block now. The years have been good to them. I’ll always love them for what they gave me: oversized t-shirts to wear to pool parties, pages upon pages of diary fodder, and baby steps into womanhood. But just like them, I’ve grown up too. New men have come into my life. Justin Timberlake. Zac Efron. Jim from The Office. A girl can’t wait around forever. I experienced the thrill of seeing my first love again, and for that I will forever be grateful. Now I move forward, Step by Step. But this time, it’s on my terms. Thanks for the memories boys!

Posted by Kristin Flores at 9:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Looking back on the girl who wrote “Balloons and Nametags” I am simultaneously embarrassed and proud. I’m embarrassed because of how awkward it all was. Those first few leaps, coming here, actually showing up for the Admissions BBQ, and making myself stay when I wanted to go home and hide out. I look back now and the steps look so small from the outside. It seems so lame that it was so hard for me to go to that event, and actually talk to people I didn’t know, braving the awkward small talk. But it wasn’t small. It began a journey of refusing to be bound by a lonely past. The first year did turn out to be rough for me. I didn’t really start making real friendships until May 2006 (more on that later). But those first few steps set a tone for me and they mattered.

This is why I love helping out on Welcome Week CREW. I’m so proud of the new students as they arrive. I look back and remember my own fears, and how God worked through that to bring me to such a new place in life. Then I see them beginning their own journeys. I see them show up to the elbow on the Tuesday morning of Welcome Week to get their own nametags and I want to do everything I can to encourage them in these first big scary steps. This is not because I think that all their stories will turn out like mine. But I remember so keenly the fear I felt as I approached the elbow my first time here, and looking back I am pretty sure that the decision to not go home and watch Sandlot alone changed my life. I did not see the fruits for a LONG time. There were still evenings that I did opt to stay home and not make the effort. But that first baby step starting me on a path towards bravery, community, great leaps, great failures, and great successes.

Now a short update: Still no husband, but I’ve upgraded to a double bed. I’ve got a pretty cool job that I never could have seen coming. None of the people at my table were lifelong friends. I did end up making some incredible girlfriends, but it took a long time and a lot of hard work. There’s still a lot of that awkward teenager in me that I tried to overcome, but I am learning that a strong Lord of the Rings and Star Wars vocabulary is not such a bad thing.

Posted by Kristin Flores at 5:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Not really knowing where to begin for this blog, I took the time to look over a few blogs I posted on Myspace (that was before Facebook took over the world). I cannot help but share some of the entries with you, because I want to talk about my journey at Fuller. I look back at them as I start my fourth year as an MDiv student. These entries crack me up but they also sober me. They remind me of who I was when I came here, and how different things are now. They also bring me profound joy because I see myself taking a jump in those first few months at Fuller and can look back on so many fruits as a result of it. So please bare with me here, but I have to introduce you to New Student Kristin:

September 17, 2005 – “Balloons and Nametags”

“Well I finally made it to Pasadena. This move has been a big leap for me. Saying goodbye to friends, family, dogs, many tears were shed, and many moments of terror gripped my heart. But i did it, 15 hours of driving, and i arrived. No major meltdowns yet. I'd say the biggest adjustment is sleeping in a bunkbed again. I guess i always thought that at this point in my life I'd wake up in a king size bed next to my husband and head off to my glamorous job. So far no husband, that's a good thing. No king size bed, that can wait. And i suppose i'm working toward that glamorous (or not so glamorous) job.

Tonite I faced up to some fears. It was the "Welcome BBQ." A night of way too loud jazz and dry fried chicken. Five years ago i started school at George Fox University. In my mind, i failed miserably. Not at classes, but at making friends. Out of fear and frustration at this discomfort of getting to know people all over again, i refused to do it. I hardened, and never put in the effort. The result was a year of loneliness and weekends back at the parents. But this time i have no net. I can't go home to mom and dad's for the weekend. There is no church in Pasadena that I grew up in and am well known. Stubborness this time will buy me nothing but solitude.

So I walked to the bbq tonite, not knowing what to expect. Fortunately i knew a few myspace friends would be there. (yeah i know i'm a nerd, don't care) But overall, i was alone. At the first sight of balloons and nametags, i almost turned around, to walk home and watch the Sandlot. But I've gone that route before, i know how that story ends. So I walked in and sat down. I made awkward conversation at the table. The people i met are super nice, but not having a wing-man (i miss julie) is a scary thing. I still wanted to bail, but i didn't. I pushed through, i started walking around and approached a table, and totally inserted myself into the conversation. (picture the awkward laugh about a joke that was spoken two seconds before you arrived) It worked. I spent the night talking to a great group of people. I had a blast, and actually laughed! Hey, I made some friends! Of course they are all boys, which is nice, but the next objective is to make some girlfriends. :)

Much of my life is spent trying to fix past failures. Nerdy shyness in junior high, bombed relationships, utter loneliness in college. I'm not really sure if we ever get past that awkward teenager calling our name just when we gain some confidence. But i feel like tonight was a big night for me. I faced those old fears. Will these people I met tonight be lifelong friends? I don't know. Maybe. Unlikely. But that's not the point. The point is that this move to Pasadena is about the refusal to give in to the taunts from my past. Tonight I look in the mirror and see that girl from five years ago, and I give her a high five.”

Stay tuned for my thoughts on “Balloons and Nametags” as I look back on my years here!

Posted by Kristin Flores at 5:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)