Colors of Purpose

A long, long time ago I was eighteen years old. Wow! That was 30 years ago. But my aging body is not the point of this post. I had graduated high school the year before and just started dating a girl who was still trapped in there.

On Valentine's Day, I dropped my brothers off at school and noticed that one of the school clubs was selling roses to be delivered to people in classes that day. I hopped out of my car and looked over their choices. They had several kinds of flowers, but it was mostly roses. After all, it was Valentine's Day.

I figured my new girl would be thrilled to get some unexpected flowers in the middle of her school day.  After a quick scan, I immediately knew which one I wanted. There was a beautiful blue rose that was almost exactly her favorite color. Plus, I didn't think I had ever seen a blue rose before. It was unique and it was perfect.

I paid my money and was told it would be delivered to her at some point before lunch period.

I left the school pretty proud of myself and looked forward to seeing her later.

I dropped by her house after work that night and she greeted me at the door with the rose in her hand. She thanked me for the unexpected gift and placed it back in the house as we left to take a walk.

As we walked hand in hand enjoying the crisp February air, she suddenly stopped and turned to me, "What does blue mean?"

I was confused by this abrupt question. "Being blue? You mean 'being sad'?"

She lowered her eyes to the ground. "What are you sad about?"

"I'm not sad. It's actually been a really good week for me."

She brought her eyes up back to mine and asked, "So, that wasn't a sad rose?"

"Oh," the context of her question finally hit me as my face broke into a smile. "No. That wasn't a sad rose. Do roses get sad?"

I turned so we could start walking again, but she held me in place. "Then what does blue mean?"

I had no idea what was being asked and she could see the confusion on my face, so she continued, "A yellow rose is what you send to a friend. Peach roses show gratitude and are typically used as a thank you for something. Orange is usually for celebration and a red rose is obviously for love."

I was beginning to realize this was going somewhere but still didn't know where. "Wow. I didn't know all that. What does blue mean?"

She paused and looked hard into my eyes. "I don't know. Blue roses don't occur in nature. They have to be dyed that color. You sent it to me. So, what does blue mean?"

"I didn't know the color has all this extra meaning."

She was visibly disgusted by this answer and quickly released my hand. "You have never told me you loved me and there were red roses right there. Why did you choose a blue one?" I could see the tears beginning to build in her eyes.

I wasn't going to address the 'I love you' part. We had been dating less than a month, but I thought I could tackle the rose debacle. "I picked that flower because you love blue. It is your favorite color and it is almost exactly the same shade as that dress you love."

Her shoulders started to shake, "But what does it mean?"

I could feel the blood rising to my face. "Seriously? It meant I listen to what you say. Here is a flower in her favorite color. She will love this. It is Valentine's Day, so I sent you a flower."

She took my hand and started back toward the house. We walked all the way in silence. The gentle chill to the air had grown cold. When we got to the front door, she turned to me, planted a gentle kiss on my cheek and whispered, "Next time, send me the red ones."

I got back in my car and tried to figure out what just happened. How was sending a girl flowers a bad thing?

The next day, I drove to a florist and ordered six red roses to be delivered to her house after school. I wanted to be entirely sure that this time she understood my intentions so I included a note that read "I hope this color is more to your liking. And now that we've seen each other's true colors, let's not see each other any more."

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"J" is for Journalism

For my 'J' post, I was going to write about my days as the only man on the journalism staff in high school. As I was going through the old issues (25 years old), I came across this article about that exact subject. I will add it here word for word.

I did not write this. It was written by one of the girls on the staff. Anything in RED is my addition today and was not a part of the original.

THE MAN BEHIND ALL THE LADIES

by Stephanie Allison

Brett Minor is the only guy we have in journalism. I thought that it would be nice if we were to find out the motive behind him taking this class.

Brett decided he needed one more credit for English and he really didn't want to take English IV. (I was scared of English IV. I heard we had to write a lot.)

I asked if he liked being in a class with all girls and he replied, "Being the only boy in the class is a lot of fun, but it also has its problems. I get to hear all the latest gossip. Girls are better gossipers than guys are. I hear about everything that happens almost as soon as it happens."  
**Brett, ladies are NOT better gossipers than guys. We just talk about more interesting things than they do.** (Not true. They were better.)

Brett also commented that being in a class of all girls has improved him as a person, but also has its disadvantages. He said, "The girls in this class are not the least bit reluctant to talk about their problems or anything else just because I'm in the room." Brett sometimes feels that being in a class with all girls causes a losing position when it comes to our class debates. He said, "Debates are the worst part of journalism, especially fights about a girl being mad at a guy for any reason. If I stick up for the guy, I have nine girls on my case at once." (I was naive and hadn't yet learned that it is always the man's fault)

"I am not anti-feminist, but my views and opinions are not exactly the same as the ladies in the class."

When I asked Brett if he had a chance to do it again, would he, he said, "YES, definitely." (DUH!…Nine girls to myself!!!)

Brett said, "I have learned things about girls that I never knew before! I won't explain."   
(Mostly about their periods)

After talking to Brett, I asked the rest of the staff what they thought about Brett, and what it was like having him around the room. (I was really scared of this)

Here are the answers I received:

Traci: I think it's great to have a guy on the staff. Brett always has funny articles on his pages, but sometimes I forget he is in the room and say something that he should not hear. Also, when all of us females get together for a gripe session about guys, Brett gives us his opinion, which is sometimes not worth a dime, but that is beside the point. (See! I hadn't learned yet.)

Deana: Brett is a great guy to have on the staff. (That's right, Deana) He just quietly sits there and lets us gripe about all life's problems. (Because I care) He usually puts in his two cents here and there. He contributes interesting ideas and thoughts for the paper. This makes him an asset to the paper.

Lynn: Brett helps a great deal on the paper. His witty articles make the paper more interesting. I think he has a lot of guts for staying on the staff with all us girls. (Bravery? Not a trait I was normally known for)

Susan M: I think Brett is a good writer for the paper and he helps out a lot. He even discusses our problems with us. (Like I said, I care)

Susan P: Brett is a great help while typing and running off stencils and putting the paper together on the night before the paper comes out. (I lived close to the school) His articles are very innovative and original.

Allison: Brett has been a great help on the paper. His articles are always very interesting and somewhat amazing. I remember the day school first started and all of us girls on the staff talked about EVERYTHING. We really had to watch what we said, but now we don't care. We figure he has heard it all.  (Once again, menstruation)  
**(BUT HAS HE??????)**

Sabra: I find Brett's articles very funny and interesting. (I am still accused of not taking things seriously) I think it's really great to have a guy on the staff.

Angie: Well, Brett is very quiet in journalism, but sometimes he says the funniest things that we girls tend to take out of context. (Always misunderstood. Still true today.) I love to hear him and Traci get into fights and how they tell us the things they do together. Brett being here doesn't seem to bother us. I still talk about everything because it doesn't seem to bother him (or me). Remember the day I got in trouble, Bert? (Bert was my nickname in high school)   
**Tracie doesn't think that the statement about what they 'do' together is a very good one.**

Stephanie: Well, I guess it's okay having a guy on the staff, but then again, I really don't know what it was like not having a guy on the staff. (It was her first year) As for Brett, I think his articles are pretty good. (Just pretty good?)
**Was this bad enough about you, Brett??**


None of them ever did go out with me.
 

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Happily participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the entire month of April, 1,889 bloggers are working their way through the alphabet. One letter every day but Sundays for a total of 26 days.

Click here to visit the website and get more information to see if you might want to join in next year. It's a lot of fun, introduces you to hundreds of new blogs and gives your writing some fantastic exposure.

Psychos Need Love Too

Earlier this week, "Jen" E Sais Quoi shared some stories about nightmare dates her and her friends had been on. There are some great stories over there. At the end of her post, she asked her readers to share some stories of their own. I wanted to participate and tried to remember if I had any really bad ones. I was about to give up when I remembered an experience with a girl that I was surprised I had forgotten about. Her name was Kelly.

Time seems to stop
on these shifts.

I was about twenty years old and working the midnight shift at a gas station. There was almost no business all night until about 5 a.m. I had no tv or radio and this was before the days of internet. It got pretty boring. After cleaning up the lot, sweeping the floors, and making coffee, I would just pray for customers to come in to help me pass the time. Kelly was one of those customers.

Kelly worked at a local restaurant and would get off work about midnight. She would drop buy most nights to grab a soda or sandwich before going home. Being one of the regulars I saw almost every night, we talked a little more each time she came in. There were several customers that I enjoyed conversation with, but she was the only one that would stick around and just talk. Being by myself all night, I was happy for the company.

In the beginning, she hung around an extra 10 minutes or so after making her purchase. Soon, she began to stay longer. She sometimes stuck around for over an hour before heading home for the night. I didn't think much of it. I had learned that she lived in an apartment by herself, so she had no one to get home to. She seemed to enjoy my company also. We were both happy to help each other pass the time.

The amount of time she spent at the gas station increased more and more. Being happy to have someone to talk to, I never considered it until one of the mangers said something to me. She had been seen on the security cameras and spent so much time their during my shifts they advised me that my girlfriend could not hang out there any more. I couldn't get them to believe that she was just a customer, but I understood their point.

That night, when I told her she couldn't stay so long anymore, she understood. She then admitted that she had been hanging around in the hopes that I would ask her out. As usual, I was totally oblivious to this type of thing. I had no idea she liked me. You know in past posts how I have stated that I have no game? This is an example.

She also said that if she couldn't hang out any more, then the opportunity for me to ask her out had come to an end. So, she asked me. I had enjoyed her company for the last several weeks. She was great to talk to, so I agreed. We exchanged numbers and she went home.

The following day, after getting a few hours sleep, I ran into town to do a few errands. She saw me and followed me back home. I was quite surprised when she pulled in my driveway behind me. I invited her in and we chatted for about an hour. When I started trying to bring the conversation to a close so I could mow my lawn and get some more rest before heading back into work that night, she wasn't picking up on my cues.

As time went on, I gave up on getting my lawn mowed, but bluntly said that I had to go to bed before going in to work. She stated she would be quiet and let me sleep. Notice that Kelly did not say she would leave. She would just stay quiet. 

Not being as bold as I am today, I didn't object. I thought it was strange, but I said nothing and decided she was weird enough that our "date" was never going to happen. I went to my bedroom and went to sleep. I woke a few hours later, took a shower and walked into my kitchen to find her sitting at the table with a full cooked meal. I had forgotten she was there! I always appreciate food, but this was a little bizarre.

I was able to get her out of the house when I left for work, but didn't recognize this as the problem it was soon going to be. Had I made my reservations clear, I might have avoided what was to come.

 She showed up at my house almost every day. I was always polite, but would try to get her to leave. Often, I would not invite her into the house, but she was happy to talk outside. Once, when she showed up, I told her I was on my out the door for a friend's emergency. I hopped in my car and sped off. She followed me.

Kelly started showing up at my favorite bar. I would be hanging out at a friend's house and she would pull in his driveway. She found out what restaurants I liked to go to. She started showing up at my friends' houses when I wasn't home looking for me. My friends put up with her for a while, but eventually grew tired of her coming around all the time. After several weeks of this, they started treating her like crap. A few of the girls went as far as to tell her that she was not welcome in the group. However, she never seemed to hear it.

One day, I woke up to find her sitting at the foot of my bed. I decided I would have to throw being polite out the window. I yelled at her to get out of my bedroom. Once I got dressed, I found her in the living room asking what we were going to do that day. I told her she was going to leave and not come back. She was confused.

I reminded her that we had never gone on that date because she freaked me out. I had never, not once, invited her anywhere; she just came. My friends hated her and no one wanted to see her around anymore. She started crying and left saying that she couldn't believe she was being treated this way. I was relieved to finally have her out of my life.

The next night, I was sitting in the bar with my friends telling them the story of how it all went down. Now that she was out of the picture, they were volunteering more information about how they felt about her. They were telling me that she had referred to me as her boyfriend since the first time they met her. One of them said he thought she was my girlfriend since she was often at my house when I wasn't there. He had stopped by to drop something off once and she answered the door in a towel. She looked like she had just taken a shower. I had no idea this had been happening.

In the middle of this conversation, Kelly walks into the bar and joins us at the table, smiling like nothing had ever happened. One of the girls asked her what she was doing there.

Kelly replied with a smile, "This is where we are every Friday night."

She got up to go to the bar to get a drink. When she came back, she kissed me on the cheek and sat down beside me. She had never done that before. What was she doing?

We were all looking at her trying to figure out what was going on when she reached out and took my hand.  Once again, this was new. I jumped up and said I was leaving. The rest of the group followed me out the door. We went back to my house.

We were sitting in my living room discussing what had just happened when Kelly walked in the door. I stood to say something to her when one of the girls got up, walked up to me and started kissing me.

This had been joked about a few weeks earlier. One of the guys had wondered what would happen if Kelly saw a girl making out with me. This girl decided to find out. She then sat next to me, curled up close and glared at Kelly.

Everyone froze staring at Kelly to see what would happen. Kelly stood still in the middle of the room for at least two minutes. Suddenly, her face turned red and she started screaming. She threw herself on the floor and sobbed. We all looked at each other. What do we do now?

I started to get up, but the girl beside me said, "No, we already know she won't listen to you. This needs to be a territorial thing."

She told Kelly to get up and get out. Kelly got up and started cussing at me. She called me every name I had ever heard, plus some new ones. Her voice was shrieking as she confessed how much she loved me, would have given everything to me, and would have been good to me.

Then she abruptly stopped crying. It was like a switch had been flipped. She was in full hysterics and then...BOOM!...total serenity. She smiled like nothing had happened. She picked up her purse, laughed as though someone had told a joke and said she would see us later as she walked out the door.

Not only did we not see her later (much to our relief), but none of us ever saw her again. She disappeared. I never did hear what happened to her. Of course, I never really tried to find out.

For the record, Kelly was NOT a redhead.

My First Date: The Date

This post is part two of the story of my first date. Click here for the first part of the story. I don't want anyone to be lost.

---

After almost a week of mental anguish and dozens of trips to the bathroom to puke my guts out, I had successfully asked a girl out for the first time. Since this was the first girl I had ever asked on a date, I should have developed a sense of confidence in my 100% success rate. However, I wasn't looking at it this way. I had accomplished the asking part, but now had to spend an entire evening with her. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I was no less anxious than before I had called her.

What are we supposed to talk about?

After spending hours trying to decide what to wear and trying not to insult my mother as I explained that I could not possibly eat anything due to my nervous stomach, I started the drive to her house. Every possible date disaster flashed through my mind as I got closer. What if I puke on her as soon as she comes to the door? What if we have nothing to talk about? What if the night goes well and she wants a kiss at the end of the night? I've never kissed anyone. I don't know how to do that!

I pulled up to her house and suddenly felt even more self-conscious. I mentioned in the last post that her father was a doctor. She lived in a huge house with a large, beautifully manicured lawn. What would she think about the way I was dressed? Would she be embarrassed to ride in my rust bucket of a car? It was too late to consider such things now.

I knocked on the door and was invited in by the woman that answered. She was obviously too young to be Jennifer's mother. Was this their maid? Rich people have maids, right? I introduced myself and told her I was there to pick up Jennifer. The woman gave me a confused look.

POSSIBLE MAID: I didn't know Jennifer was going out tonight.

ME: I was supposed to pick her up at seven.

She left to go get Jennifer and I sat on the couch trying to decide what I would say when Jennifer came down. Over fifteen minutes passed before the woman returned.

POSSIBLE MAID: What was your name again?

ME: Brett

She thanked me and went back upstairs. What was that? Why is this taking so long? Has she changed her mind? Does she really not know who I am? By the time she came back down, I had been there for over thirty minutes worrying that I was leaving a nervous sweat stain on their couch.

POSSIBLE MAID: Jennifer asks if you could come back at 8:30?

I agreed and went back to my car. I drove around town for the next hour trying to figure out what just happened. In that hour, time seemed to stand still. I didn't know if 8:30 would ever come around, but eventually it did and I went back to her house.

As soon as I got out of my car, she came bouncing out the door.

JENNIFER: Sorry I wasn't ready earlier. I thought this was a joke. I didn't realize it was really you and didn't think you were coming.

I opened the car door for her and she asked if I wanted to go to the Loiterers' Club, a local club for teens. I agreed since that was the first time that I had even considered what we were going to do. Remember, this was all new territory for me. At that moment, I had already made more progress with a girl than ever before.

On the way to the club, I was relieved that the small talk was happening without much effort. She was pretty easy to talk to. This date might actually happen without me committing social suicide.

It turned out that she wanted to go to the Loiterers' Club because she was already planning to meet her friends there. She made a quick introduction and said she wanted to dance. I am not much of a dancer, but followed her to the dance floor and danced with her and all of her friends. After several dances, one of her friends noticed that a booth had just opened up. She took my hand a started toward the empty seats.

Let me repeat that. She took my hand...

A girl was holding my hand! I knew this didn't mean anything, but I was suddenly on top of the world. It was this moment that I repeated to one of my friends the next day. She held my hand!

Now I had gone even further with a girl. This night was great!

The rest of the night went without incident. We danced some more. We talked and visited with her friends. There was lots of laughter and the night went really well. When I took her back home, she even said, "I had fun. Let's do this again."

I drove home floating on a cloud. I had just spent an entire evening with a girl. I hadn't embarrassed myself. She seemed to like me. Her friends liked me. The night could not have gone any better.

The next morning I saw a few of my friends who wanted to know how the night went. I told them how great it was and couldn't wait to see her again. They offered me their congratulations and did a little of the obligatory teasing that guys have to do.

Later that afternoon, I had to go into work. One of my coworkers said that he heard I had gone out with Jennifer the night before. He was one of her friends from school and asked me a bunch of questions. He wanted to know where we went. Did I meet so-and-so? What did we do afterwards? He seemed genuinely interested and I was happy to answer them.

However, his last question threw me. I don't remember exactly how he worded it, but he basically asked if I got lucky before dropping her off.

I just stared at him not sure what to say. I hadn't even kissed her. No, I hadn't gotten lucky. I hadn't even tried anything. I didn't even think of trying anything. It was the first date I had ever been on with anybody. Sex was not anything that I had even thought about. Having just stepped into the dating world, I wasn't yet accustomed to this aspect of the male 'locker room' talk. After a few uncomfortable seconds of stunned silence, he raised his eyebrows and said, "Well?"

I felt my face get red as I got angry. I shot him a dirty look, clocked out, and stormed out of the restaurant. After a few minutes, I forgot about the conversation.

When I got home, I called Jennifer to see when she would want to go out again. Hopefully, she would be free that night.

JENNIFER: (angry shouting) No, I don't want to go out. I don't ever want to see you again.

ME: (confused) What?  I thought we had a good time?

JENNIFER: I did, but then you told Rob you slept with me!

ME: No, no, no. I did not!

JENNIFER: No, you didn't actually say it, but I heard all about it. He asked and you gave him an 'I got lucky' smirk and pranced out of the room smiling!

She slammed the phone down. I sat there stunned for several minutes. What just happened? Do I call her back and explain? Would she even believe me? Should I go kill Rob? Why didn't I give him an emphatic 'NO'? Did he misunderstand or just lie? I really wasn't trying to give that impression! How do I fix this?

I mulled this over in my mind and finally decided to just let it go. It wouldn't matter what I said, Rob would stick to his story. Plus, now that the thought was in her mind, she would always wonder how it really went down. I resolved to be single once again.

Monday morning, I saw Jeff at school.

JEFF: Hey, did you go out with that girl Friday night?

ME: Yeah, I did.

JEFF: Cool. Let's double this weekend.

I shoved him into the bushes.

My First Date: The Call

Eight months ago began my very public online courtship with Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon. Some of you (my readers) have been reading long enough to have seen this develop from the beginning. For those of you that came in late, click here for a recap of all the posts that showcase our budding romance.

Being online and not actually face to face played very heavily into why we hit it off with each other. In the non-virtual world, I am not what would be called a 'player.' I have never had a way with the ladies. Of the women I have dated, in most cases I never even asked them out. We would end up together because, due to some life circumstance, we spent a considerable amount of time together, grew to have a mutual affection for each other, and just found ourselves together. On the rare occasions that I actually did ask a girl out, it was only after I was confident that she already liked me and would say yes.

This is in stark contrast to me proposing marriage to Red when we had hardly even conversed online. YES, I was flirting. YES, I was being bold, but she lived all the way in Delaware and we had all of cyberspace between us. It was a pretty safe environment. In the real world, I behave much differently.

I am not a shy person. I can talk with anyone and enjoy making people laugh. I wouldn't be afraid to talk to a woman, but to openly flirt or ask out just wouldn't happen. If we go a little further back in time, I wasn't even able to talk to them. I didn't have a girlfriend or even go on my first date until I was a junior in high school and nothing that happened that night gave me any confidence to make dealing with women any easier in the future.

In high school, I was friends with a guy named Jeff that didn't have trouble talking to women. While I was the nerdiest guy in the school, Jeff was Mr. Popular. He was friends with everyone, was on the basketball team, and had dated more girls in the year I had known him than I had even talked to in my entire life.

While hanging out one Friday night, he suggested we double date the following weekend. I don't know why he made this suggestion. Even more, I don't know why I agreed, but I did. I was sixteen years old and had never been on a date or had a real girlfriend ever. There had been girls I liked, but I just admired them from afar. I left his house not knowing what I was going to do, but was determined that I could do this.

There was a girl at school who I had a crush on, but couldn't wrap my head around actually talking to her. She was out of the question, so I had to think of someone else. After days of mental anguish, I remembered someone who might work.

When I was in junior high, there was a girl that used to come to church with another family. I had been told that she liked me, but I thought she was pretty strange and I would never have pursued it even if she was 'normal'. It just wasn't in me. However, now was a different situation and I refused to be the guy that couldn't get a date. She liked me once before. She was my best shot at getting a 'yes'.

It had been three years since she had this crush on me and I hadn't seen her since then, but I remembered her name. This was before the days of Facebook or even the Internet, so I pulled out a phone book and looked her up. The only listing with that name was for a doctor and I had no idea if he had any daughters.

Before I could even fathom the idea of asking this girl out, I had to find out if this would be the right number. I summoned up all my courage and dialed. A woman answered the phone and I asked if Jennifer was home. She said, "Just a minute" and called for Jennifer. I immediately felt my heart try to jump out of my chest and hung up the phone. At least, I had the right house.

I knew I couldn't call right back, because she might know it was me. I had to let some time pass. I waited three days before trying again. I probably would have put it off longer, but it was now Thursday and we were supposed to go out on Friday. I couldn't put this off any longer.

I picked up the phone and dialed. As the phone started to ring, the self-doubt and panic began to set in.

What if she has a boyfriend? I have nothing to go on.

Will she even remember me? I couldn't remember having ever actually talked to her.

Oh, wait! What if she says no? I hadn't really considered this until now. If she says no, I will have less than 24 hours to come up with a date.

VOICE ON PHONE: "Hello"

ME: "Uh…hello. Is, um, Jennifer home?"

VOICE: "Who's calling?"

ME: "Brett"

As she left to get Jennifer, I could feel my courage start to falter. I was in unknown territory and way over my head. I knew it and was convinced she would know it as soon as she got on the phone. I had just decided to give up and tell Jeff I was a loser when she picked up the line.

JENNIFER: (excited) "Hey, Brad, what's going on?"

ME: "This isn't Brad. It's Brett."

JENNIFER: "Brett who?"

I knew it. She has no idea who I am.

ME: "Brett…Brett Minor."

Even after telling her my name, she still wasn't sure who I was. I had to explain that we met at church a few years ago before it jogged her memory. However, even then I wasn't convinced that she actually remembered. I believe she was just trying not to be rude.

After several failed attempts at catching up (my poor excuse for small talk, but we had never really known each other), I finally managed to get the words out. There was no turning back. I had asked her out for the following night.

Without hesitation, she agreed.

At that moment, I was at a total loss for words. I had put so much thought and concentration into the asking part, I hadn't even considered what I was supposed to say afterward. After several awkward seconds of silence, she spoke up. "Pick me up tomorrow at seven."

We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. It occurred to me that Jeff and I had never discussed a time or where we would be going, but none of that mattered because I HAD A DATE!!!  I had actually pulled this off.

I called Jeff to gloat tell him I had a date and needed to know what time we were to meet up.

JEFF: "Sorry, man. I forgot about all about that. We're going out of town this weekend. I can't go."

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This post has gotten long enough. I will conclude this story in my next post. For now, I will only reveal that I did show up at her house the following night.

TO BE CONTINUED…

My First Love

I mentioned in one of my posts last week that I would try to find time to write over the weekend while Red was here. We hadn't seen each other in over 6 weeks, but I have committed to posting five times per week. We had a great weekend and she left yesterday, but the weekend posts just didn't happen. We each mentioned sitting down to blog, but we never got it done. I do not feel guilty about this, but thought I would point it out.

It was an easygoing weekend. We didn't do much. We watched a few movies and went out to eat a few times. We accomplished exactly what we meant to and that was simply getting to spend some time together. One of the things we did was driving around to the places I grew up. Since I live close to my childhood home, I was able to show it to her. I showed her my elementary and high school and the sites where many of the adventures from this blog took place.

While driving through the old neighborhood, we passed the home of my first girlfriend. Since I was trying to give her a look into my past, I felt obliged to tell her the story.

I hadn't discovered redheads yet,
but isn't she cute.

Christa's father was friends with my father and our families spent a considerable amount of time together. Before we had even entered kindergarten, Christa and I spent more time with each other than other kids our age. Our parents joked that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Despite not knowing what that meant, it had been said enough times that we began to identify ourselves by those labels. We even went on a date to see Star Wars at the local drive-in.

I was a year older than Christa, so I started school first. Because of life changes, our parents didn't hang out as much and being in different grades we didn't see each other very often at school. Time passed and we forgot about each other.

Several years later, I was in the 8th grade and my mother calls me to the phone.

ME: Who is it?
MOM: It's Christa.
ME: Who?

Once Mom told me who Christa was, I wondered why she was calling me. I hadn't actually talked to her in years. Plus, I was now an awkward pre-teen that had no idea how to talk to girls. I reluctantly took the phone.

ME: (quietly) Hello?
CHRISTA: Brett, I have some bad news. Please don't be mad at me.
ME: Mad about what?
CHRISTA: Well, Bobby asked me out.
ME: (confused) OK. What did you say?
CHRISTA: I said I had to talk to you first.....Can we break up?

I agreed to the break up and hung up the phone. Apparently, while I was under the impression that we had just grown apart and I hadn't even thought about her in several years, she still considered us to be a couple. I wonder if she was feeling neglected.

I have gotten a variety of responses from people when I have recalled this story, but I always look at it the same way. This part of my history should be proof to Red that I am a very low maintenance boyfriend.

Living by Grace - Guest Post

 ATTENTION LADIES!!!

I did not write the following post. It was written by my friend, Jessica (Osborn) Patch. Jessica is a successful blogger and author. She and and five other female bloggers are starting a daily devotional page on Facebook, which will be launching on Monday, September 12th. Jessica asked if I would post her invitation on my blog. Here it is. I will let her explain the rest.

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What does living by grace mean to you? For me, it means walking each day knowing I am weak, but He is strong. I get tired, He never does. I stumble, He holds me up. I make mistakes, He’s perfect.

So many things pour into me every day. Responsibilities of being a wife, mother, employee, a writer, a woman (if you’re a woman you know what I’m saying). I wear many hats. I love each one. I love each responsibility, but they can all wear me out.

I need my thirsty soul, quenched. I need saturated with His love, with the washing of the water of His Word. I can’t be good at any of the things above, if I don’t first fill myself up with Him.

Can anyone relate?

And because I’m a woman, I like to share. Women love to share, don’t they? My husband is amazed at some of the things I’m willing to divulge to my girlfriends. I love it when a bunch of us get together and talk about life and most importantly the foundation of life. Jesus Christ.

It renews me, encourages me, revs me up, and gives me hope. We bond through friendship and faith. We care for each other, pray for each other, laugh together. It’s a wonderful experience, especially when coffee and chocolate are involved!

“…A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Ecclesiastes 4:12

Doesn’t this sense of belonging, renewal, and friendship sound wonderful? Wish you could have it on a daily basis?

You can.

Living by Grace

I’m honored to be partnering with some incredible women of faith who want to live by grace, together. We want a sense of community and camaraderie with other women. On September 12th, we’ll be launching a devotional Facebook community.
Living By Grace. We want to invite you to come by and let your souls be quenched, your minds and hearts challenged. Each day an amazing woman will bring the word through a devotional and feel free to mingle, chat, ask questions, and just have a good time.

We’re building bonds of sisterhood through faith and Facebook! Come and join us.

Contributing Writers
Jennifer Slattery, Joanne Sher, Patty Wysong, Lynda Schultz, Maria Morgan, and yours truly, Jessica.

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This is Brett again. If you are interested in being part of the Daily Devotional group, follow this Facebook link and 'like' the page. The first devo goes up Monday. There are already many women on the page getting to know each other before it starts.