Datin'Kait, this is Ground Control. All systems are GO for launch...of my first date story!

 While I was home for Christmas, just before this past semester, my mother tells me that one of her friends has a son who came back home to live for a while, and he doesn't know anyone out here since all of his friends had gone off to college or moved away. She basically begged me to be nice to this kid and take him out to meet some of my old friends and some people from church. I agreed with some hesitation; the last time I agreed to this kind of thing I ended up hanging out with a kid who, although quite attractive, I could swear had an oedipal complex...I won't go into details. Finally, though, she suckered me into it by appealing to my charitable side.

I called him up and told him he should come over for movie night with me and several other friends. Things went well and by the end of the night I breathed a huge sigh of relief thinking "this kid's not so bad as the last one..." He was actually pretty funny, and seemed fairly with it.

When he called to ask me on a date, I said yes. Why not? An innocent, cozy winter cuddle buddy is always nice. He's not quite the type I'm usually into but he seems more normal than most guys I've gone out with. Again, it was fun. We did the old ice skating/hot chocolate typical date thing, and generally had a good time. We hung out a few more times over the week or two that I was home, and I left thinking that it was fun but that was probably the end of it as I wouldn't be home for a while, and I'm not into the long distance thing. He never kissed me, never held my hand. We were casual friends as far as I knew.

A few days after being back in Provo I talk to my mother, and she starts gushing over how this guy already talked to his mother about me and that he thinks I'm his future wife, and she's SO EXCITED that this special time has finally arrived in her baby's life. Needless to say, I was totally caught off guard, and I can now attest that my mother is more Provo than I am.

After explaining to my mother that that wasn't what was really going on, that he and I were just buddies, she gets off the phone a little disappointed.

Just when I breathe a sigh of relief thinking I put out the fire of gossip and that I was safely far away in Provo for the situation not to get even more carried away, I get another call. This time it's him. He said he just called to say that he was moving out to Provo within the week, and wanted to know what I thought.

Not wanting to encourage this, while also thinking that maybe living in girl-infested Provo would be good for getting him off my back and not quite having the guts to tell him to keep dreaming, I said "it's up to you."

Oh yes, he did indeed move to Provo. He also called me nonstop wanting to see me. I could only use the "I'm busy with classes" excuse for so long before he finally caught up with me and asked if I wanted to see a movie. I caved. Where was McKenna to tell me to "make good choices?" Probably at the gym.

The date was awkward.

I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye the whole time. I purposely didn't make eye contact and just pretended to be totally absorbed in whatever mindless, action-packed crap was rolling on the screen. Several times, he tried the old standby of reaching into the popcorn at the same time I did. I say "several times," and to me it's really sad because he didn't get the point when I pulled my hand out quickly like it had been burned, even though it was really not even lukewarm.

Afterwards, we're strolling through the mall and he spots a jewelry store and asks if I want to look at rings...just for kicks, he added after...

You gotta understand that girls are like raccoons. We love shiny things, and anything is so much cooler when it's been be-dazzled. C'mon, we all know,when it comes down to it, none of us would buy anything Ed Hardy if it didn't have the crap be-dazzled out of it. Tattoo/biker art is only cool for girls if it's covered in rhinestones.

I almost said yes simply because the temptation of looking at glimmering stones was almost too much to bear, but by some stroke of saving grace managed to refuse and avoid where that might've led.

Leaving the mall, we head towards his car and I'm elated thinking that this rendez-vous is going to be over soon. Jumped the gun, because he proceeds to say that he wants to go for a drive...ugh.

Before we even get to where we're going my "ABORT ABORT!!" alarm starts going off...We're headed up Squaw Peak, and the boy must've got a Provo-insider's tip from one of his new roommates, because how he managed to find one of the city's top makeout points alone is beyond me.

So, we're sitting in his car in silence for a few minutes apparently "admiring the view." After our little pause, he reaches over to try and brush back my hair, and I jumped a little and said, "uh...I have a phobia about people touching my face..." I don't, but it was enough to cut short an uncomfortable Seinfeld-esque man hand's face caress. All I know is I don't want to kiss him. He wasn't my type to begin with, and it scares me how fast he's trying to push all this that I don't want to think about how bad it would get if I let him get all touchy.

Another pause.

Him: "So...do you know a lot about this hill we're on...?"

Me: "Oh yeah, I love sledding down here!" Anything to avoid where he's trying to steer this boat.

Him: "Oh yeah, I guess you could...But I heard people come up here for other things..."

Me: "I've seen some people trying to hang glide off the cliff up here, too. But that's usually only in the summertime." Innocent smile.

Him: "Oh...um, yeah...I actually heard people come up here to make out."

Pause...

Then he starts inching forward and the wave of panic is rising in my chest. He goes in for the kill with his eyes closed and his lips all puckered up on his round, puddin' face. I don't remember clearly, but I think I yelped and pulled back. The only thing I think to say is this:

"Haha! You really had me going there! I thought you were actually going to try and kiss me." Uncomfortable laughs. He starts the car and we start heading back down the hill.

I avoided him again after that, but I kept getting calls from my mother all in a tizzy about it, but after hearing my reluctance about the whole thing, she pulls out the ultimate guilt trip You-Don't-Want-to-End-Up-Like- Sherry-Dew-Do-You? card. She told me to pray about it, and I did. Can't say it was my most heartfelt hour of prayer, but I wanted to know if I gave the kid time would it work out. After all, the guy was kinda funny when we hung out in December.

I'm no King Nebuchadnezzar, but I don't think I need Daniel to interpret the dream I had that night:

As far as I remember, I was suddenly in one of the church meetinghouses for my wedding reception decked out in a poofy white number and caked in makeup. The feeling was that I was disoriented and confused. Looking to my left I saw his face and he was wearing a tux. I officially starting freaking out and frantically trying to bail on the situation Runaway Bride-style, but all the doors were locked and windows were sealed. Right before I woke up screaming, my family had cornered me in the building bathroom trying to pull me back into the decorated cultural hall to see my new husband and telling me how I would get used to him after a while.

Sitting there drenched in cold sweat and hyperventilating, like a big chicken and not having the guts to call him, I sent him a text message telling him not to see me anymore and to go back home. Thank heavens I haven't seen him since.

I can laugh at it now, but what I want to know is why there are some guys that think it's okay to ask a girl to marry you when they barely know them? This seems to be something that happens frequently in this area, and I'm perplexed, to say the least. He hung out with me a grand total of six times. SIX TIMES!!! and was already trying to finagle a ring shopping excursion out of me.

Knowing I probably shouldn't set rigid limits on my life and thereby foregoing a lot of unexpected things the Lord has in store for my life, but I have, however, set a minimum dating period of one year before I'll accept any marriage proposal, unless of course I get struck by a lightning bolt of revelation. I, quite frankly, don't trust someone's judgment who hasn't been with me long enough to see exactly what he's getting into. Or heck! for me to see what I'm getting into. My daddy wholeheartedly agrees with me, my mother has her doubts. So, I'm torn.

It's a touchy subject, though, because for some people a short engagement worked, but it seems to be the exception, not the rule. It's an eternal decision, and I can't make myself take it so lightly. How can others? It's that that I would really love to be able to understand...

Your comments are welcome and encouraged.