VL Club Part Two:

***In case the title didn't clue you in, this the second installment of my first kiss story. To begin at the beginning, start here.***

Okay, so we'll call him "Phil". (This actually isn't the first post about Phil. Remember the Valentine's Day disaster? Same guy. Except that post (despite a VERY trunkated version of last night's info) was about the end of our relationship, while this is about the beginning. Totally different vibe here. Anyhow).

After two years of playing roughly twelve hours of pick-up basketball a week with 99% male coeds, I had never once been asked out, asked for my number, or even spoken to much - unless it was words like "Ball!" or "Shoot!" Then I go home for Christmas, change my buddy-stamp for an I-want-to-date-you-stamp, and bingo. Within the first week Phil stops me after a hot and sweaty night of basketball (I'm sure I was looking lovely) and asks for my phone number.

I'm sure I was very calm, cool, and collected on the outside, but inside I was doing some kind of primitive victory-freak-out. And Phil was pretty cute too. And six foot five. And a really good basketball player.

So then he called me, and we went to an on-campus dance. And then he called me again and took me night skiing at good old Kelly's Canyon. Poor guy - my court skills gave him the impression I was athletic. It was my second time on the slopes, and he took me to the top. Let's just say it was a really long way down. Yet he still continued to call. And we kept going out on cheesy little dates, and hanging out together.

But there was no kissing. Hand holding - yes, but smooches - zero. Why, you ask? What was wrong with him/me/us? He found out I'd never been kissed and felt GUILTY taking that away from me!!! Here I was trying to get rid of my VL status like it was radio active, and he was all "That's so special. Your first kiss should be really meaningful."

Bleck. But then I put that scheming little brain of mine to work and set about getting what I wanted...

Phil took astronomy. What could be more natural than for me to go star gazing with him? So (at my request) we made a date, and set out for the baseball fields one frigid, February night.

Did I mention it was cold? We're talking Rexburg cold here - like below-zero-with-that-wonderful-blowing-wind kind of cold. Other than that, however, the situation was prime. Beautiful sky, beautiful stars, and me wanting a beautiful kiss. My brother had even called to coach me on how to secure this kiss. He informed me that all I had to do was stare into his eyes... and then look at his lips. I was armed and dangerous, and Phil didn't stand a chance.

But it took him a really long time to believe he was worthy to kiss a VL member. Seriously. He talked about the honor for like ten minutes. And all the time my poor little kiss-starved lips were growing colder, and colder.

Then finally, he stopped talking. (As much). I was staring. We were locked in a tight, kiss-me-baby embrace. Orion and his belt were shining down, illuminating the utter romance of the moment. My neck was about to break from staring straight up at his 6'5-ishness. And then he leaned down, and I stretched up, and our lips met...

Have you ever tried to talk in Rexburg cold? Did you happen to notice how it actually gets difficult to form your words because as your lips begin to freeze off your face they don't work so well? Yeah. Frozen lips do nothing for kissing. My lips were so cold it felt like they'd been shot with novocain and I was chewing on them to see if there was any feeling coming back. And his weren't any better. And his nose was REALLY cold.

And not realizing the full impact our frozen lips were having on our kissing experience I began to panic, sure that I must be the world's worst kisser ever. No matter how hard I tried to make my lips do something besides act like two blocks of wood, they just wouldn't work. I was so depressed. I had been so positive I'd be a great kisser - and even more positive I'd love kissing - and instead, I was a failure.

What a let down.

So we went back to my apartment. And talked. And my lips thawed out. And then... The dream came back alive, baby! Those first kisses might have been like making out with a side of frozen beef, but once I got warmed up it was all good. And don't worry Mom, Phil had kissing rules. As evidenced by his chivalrous attitude toward my VL status, he was very pure. (But he was still a great kisser).

So the moral of the story is, if you live in Rexburg and are plotting your first kiss, plan for summer. I hear the baseball fields are beautiful that time of year.