having the cash to dry clean my clothes in england was rare enough that i decided to celebrate it; i tied my coat's long plastic bag to the shoulders of my tank top and went prowling around the stanford house garden. from my perch in the bushes, i watched the preppy new guy settle himself on a bench with a cigarette and a can of soda. "that'll kill you, you know," i said. "diet coke is lethal." "it'd be easier to talk to you if i could see you," said he, so i clomped out of the bushes and joined him at the bench. six years and six months later, he asked me to marry him.
[we're engaged]
[!!!]
9 comments:
huzzah!!!
Oh wow. Wow!
all true, 'xept i walked over and sat down with her, not the other way around.
i erased "prognosti-hater" from the name line of the above entry, and yet it remains.
i also seem to have gotten a huge nosebleed.
coincidence?
come now, jeebus, aren't we all lost in the details? i don't even remember the first time i met josh after a concert at saddleback. but he does. maybe it's a man-brain thing.
The version I know involves a Creed concert in Helsinki. Anyone?
er, i've never played xylophone for creed. and last i checked, saddleback college was still in mission viejo. but maybe that's just the crack talking.
[josh sends his congratulations, too!]
congrats!
btw, i should have qualified my last comment with "lamehumorresponse", but i guess it's too late....
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