Thursday, February 14, 2008


Call me a cynic, but this year for Valentine's Day, I'm wearing pink corduroy pants and that's about as far as I'm going. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to eat all the cupcakes and chocolate-covered strawberries that come my way (one of each so far this morning and it's only 10:06), but don't expect me to give back anything more than a wink and smile.

Having already told you about all my past valentines, I don't have a lot of exciting news to share today. I was partially correct about my 2007 prediction, and that makes me 50-50 once again. I'm still single, but no one in my family is getting married. I'll go double or nothing to predict the same set up for 2009.

Rather than waste time on that, though, I have two good Valentinesque stories for you. First, the story of my first "boyfriend."

It was the summer after sixth grade. I was sitting at home one day when my phone rang. It was a boy from my school. I almost dropped the phone I was so surprised. Boys never called me. I had greasy hair and braces.

So imagine my surprise when he said: "If Bicholas* asked you to go out, would you say yes?" I told him of course I would say yes.

The rest of the day, I waited by the phone like freaking Publisher's Clearinghouse was going to call. A few days went by. Nothing. Frustrated, I picked up the phone again the next time my mom left the house and called the boy that called me. "So, I thought Bicholas was going to call me and ask me to go?" "Oh, you're already going. I was asking you for him." "Wait, you said IF he asked me." "That's not what I meant. I gotta go."

Of course, my mom still teases me that I had a "boyfriend" for a few days and never knew it. I think we "went" for a month and saw each other maybe 3 or 4 times until he broke up with me at church camp. He had my best friend do it. I think Bicholas had some issues.

Pretty certain that my life was ruined (or at least the rest of my time at church camp), I cried and cried. Our parents were friends, so when his Dad came to pick him up from camp early and saw me crying by the horse stables, he let me use his car phone to call my mom.

Honestly, I was hoping his Dad would punish Bicholas. Not for breaking up with me, but for being so mean as to have my best friend do it. Little coward.

Eventually, I moved on. But Bicholas and I didn't talk again until probably our freshman year of high school.

Read about my first kiss later today!

*Name changed, obviously.


  1. Haha - I am laughing out loud at the memory of "Bicholas" and his brother "Balan."

  2. wow...linds, i think he still has issues. don't take it personally!


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