K-I-S-S-I-N-G

When the slightly handicapped kid in my second-grade class who chased me around the playground during kissing tag ended up catching me and licking my cheek, I should have taken it as a sign that much of my kissing career would be awkward and unenjoyable.

If any of you know what it takes to become a True Aggie, you understand what it truly is--strangers kissing strangers, friends kissing friends, and saliva being shared all around. Everyone is in a complete frenzy to find someone to kiss before the night is over. This, my friends, is the Utah State tradition of True Aggie Night. In order to become a True Aggie, one must receive a kiss on the "A" under a full moon at midnight by someone who is already a True Aggie.

Naturally, Jeffro, Heidi and I wanted to go become True Aggies at the first opportunity we got. Fortunately, our friend Lancelot was already a True Aggie and was more than willing to help us achieve that lofty status. As soon as we heard when True Aggie Night was, we began making plans: Stan would kiss Jeffro who would kiss Mitch who would kiss me, and then Stan would kiss Heidi.

When the fateful night arrived, we lined up before the A and completed the task at hand, receiving a card informing us of our True Aggie Status. We tucked those away in a safe place, then turned to enjoy the show. As Heidi, Jeffro and I watched, we were approached by a group of hopefuls, inquiring if we were True Aggies. I turned to my friends, both of whom seemed to be struck dumb, and answered for all of us.

"Yeah, we are."

"Wanna make this kid here one?"

(Once again turning to my friends for some help with that question--and receiving no acknowledgement) I replied "Uh, sure, why not?"

We walked over and got in line and he interacted with his friends while I . . . Stood there awkwardly. After waiting in line for quite awhile (or maybe it just felt that way because I was standing there so awkwardly) it was our turn. We climbed up onto the A and he leaned in for the peck that would make him a True Aggie. Or at least, what I thought was to be a peck. Unfortunately, he didn't have the same thought, and ended up making out with my cheek after I turned away . . . Much to the enjoyment of the crowd. I fled off the A and ran to my friends, all of whom were laughing. I joined their laughter, wondering how the poor kid whose name I just don't remember was feeling. Sorry bud, I know you wanted to show off for your friends, but next time you might want to think twice about looking manly, for it just might have the opposite effect.

Welcome to the real world

Root Ca·nal [root kuh-nal]: noun tooth rape.

Outdoor sleepover

There's something about a clear night that makes you want to sleep outside. The stars shining down on you, the crickets singing a lullaby, the gentle breeze through the trees--all of these things combine together to make a perfect night of sleep for even the most restless of sleepers.

Especially if your dad forgets to turn the sprinklers off.

I sure hope the way to a man's heart isn't through his stomach...

Today my roommate and I ruined our second batch of no-bake cookies this week.

Add that to the blackies we made, and the only plausible conclusion is that Jeffro and I can't cook.

Hill of death.

The choice: Lady with a baby in a stroller encounters a hill, and has the option of taking the ramp, the much steeper grassy hill, (which has a sign posted warning people of the dangers of said hill) or the stairs.

The decision: Lady with baby decides to take the steep grassy hill.

The outcome: Lady with baby ends up losing control many times, almost hitting a tree or running out into the street or toppling down the hill or dumping the baby out, unable to gain control until the last minute.

The critics: Laughing their heads off at the stupidity of some people.