Friday, July 21, 2006


I really want a Lotus Elise

Just sayin'.

I was thinking about past relationships last night. I think I have told you before that my magic number is 3. Oh yeah, I'm a stud. And I've only had 3 serious girlfriends, including the current one that will endure the ages.

But my first taught me so many lessons about life and love and skanks. Her name was Michelle. We met through church, but rest assured she didn't take it too seriously, not that I did either but that's beside the point. She was 1 grade lower than I, blah blah blah. It was barely a relationship since I lived here during the school year and came back during the summers to live with my grandparents. But it lasted 2 whole summers I think. We went on choir tour together (I'll explain that later) and made out on the bus and sat together and, I supposed, enjoyed each other's company.

What my friends failed to inform me of was that she got around. All the way around. I was a bit perplexed as to why they told me this after the relationship dissolved and they said that I had to make my own decisions. Fine but next time TELL ME! So I'm dating this girl of ill repute, who never did make any sexual advances towards me or none that I can remember, and I don't even know. It's almost as if she acted nice around me cuz she knew I was sheltered and innocent, which, if true, was very noble.

Ready for it? About 3 months after we broke up, come to find out that her mom actually bet her daughter that she couldn't sleep with me. I'm real torn up not marrying into that family. When I found out, I was a)shocked that a mom would do that and b)shocked out how little she did to win this bet. I think she might have won the bet (maybe) on our very last date. My parents were out of town and my brother (Moses' brother's name as well as ESC's) and I were home alone. He was out and about so I had the house to myself, but when we came back from dinner, I saw my grandfather's minivan sitting in the driveway. WTF? So I go in and see what the devil is going on. Apparently they didn't trust us enough to let a 18 and 16 yr. old stay home by themselves. So there is my grandpa making a sandwich and watching some news channel. I go back out and tell what's her face that my grandpa is home and that I'll talk to her later. That was the second to last time I talked to her. I ran into her again at the Christmas Eve service 3 years later.

I believe white trash would be a good description of her and her family.

Good times.


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