How I Lost My Membership in the Ricks College VL Club

So Crash wants first kiss stories. I was going to attempt to put it in her comment box, but I quickly realized such limitations would never allow me to do it justice. Instead, I decided to treat you all to the full meal deal here on my blog. Lucky you.

First off, I would just like to say that my first kiss did not happen before I was sixteen. Second off, I would like to add that it didn't happen before I graduated from high school. To be brutally honest, it ALMOST didn't happen before I graduated from Ricks College.

I know. I attended Dateland America for five semesters, and didn't get kissed until half way through the last one. No innocent pecks. No spin the bottle. Not a single night of NICMO. (For those of you that didn't attend BYU-something-or-other, that stands for non-committal-makeout)(Can you believe I missed out on that???)

I would also like to say, that this not-kissing business was NOT because I was against kissing. It is also not because I had no opportunities. Even as far back as high school, there were definitely boys who would have kissed me - I just didn't want to kiss any of them. The boys I actually would have considered never offered. Go figure.

Then I got to Ricks and found out there was a club for people like me. The Virgin Lips Club. And although I was in pretty good company, I was not a proud member. At any time I would have been very happy to hand in my VL status for a little kissing action, but...

I was too chicken. This is what happens to girls who go that long without being kissed. We begin to wear a stamp on our forehead visible only to eligible members of the opposite sex, that says "Kiss you? No I don't want to kiss you! I mean, not unless you want to kiss me first, which probably won't happen since you'll NEVER KNOW I actually have a major crush on you, because I am so terrified you'll know I really do want to kiss you (or even just date you) that I will act as if I am the world's best buddy instead."

Whatever we put out there truly is what the world sees. And I will prove that point.

I went along like this for four semesters. I lived in three different apartments. I met LOTS of people, got set up on several dates, and was asked out a grand total of one time. I was the perennial buddy. I was "one of the guys". Other girls were jealous of all my "guy friends".

And all because of that stupid, invisible stamp.

And then came my final semester at Ricks. Rather than graduate in four semesters, I saved Math 101 (because I need serious time and help when it comes to math), Fit For Life (because I was avoiding the mandatory running involved), and FA 100 (because I'm a huge procrastinator) for one last semester. Besides that, I had started Ricks in a winter semester, and wasn't really ready to leave the fun behind mid-year.

That Christmas, while my bosom-buddy/roommate/niece (I know, it's weird) Kelly and I were home with the fam, we decided to change our stamps. We adopted a new motto: "Take Rexburg By Storm" (which was actually code for "Take Rexburg's Male Population By Storm").

And we did.

Rather than hiding from prospective flirtations, we left the apartment each day in search of male attention. We were available, and wanted the world to know. Eye contact was implemented, smiles were cast, and our stamps changed to "Date Me!" And within the first week I gave out my first phone number EVER.

Coincidence? I think not.

Who was he? Is he the one that broke the evil non-kissing spell? I'd love to tell you now, but it's getting late (and this post is getting REALLY long), so this story is going to have to be

To Be Continued...