some good friends + a love story

I'm constantly being reminded how real friendships can be even if you live miles apart and mainly talk to one another online.

Like when we received this at Studio Calico from Stephanie P (hooglygirl).

And when Tina sent me this for my birthday (which is even more beautiful in person)

Or when Reyanna sent me this, which ironically, we used this line a LOT in Studio Calico's May kits, but not one piece of paper or embellishment was duplicated with what I already had. VERY pleased by that.

Such wonderful, wonderful friends I have. I'm so blessed.

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I guess it took me quitting my high-stress job to realize how in-love I am with my husband.

Now, don't take that the wrong way, it's not like I fell out of love with him over the years, it's just that I was so caught up with work work work that I didn't have time to enjoy the little things about why I love Greg.

This photo got me thinking about when we first met. It was in spring semester of my freshman year at WKU. He was a junior taking the same astronomy class as I and sat dead-smack in the middle of the front row. Me, on the other hand....I was somewhere off to the side trying to blend in with the crowd. I was a freshman, after all.

The first time I noticed him, he was wearing a rainbow-striped pull-over by Gant. I think Joseph had the same fabric in a coat. It was that BRIGHT and stood out that much!!! Only, he didn't have jealous brothers that threw him in a pit....matter-of-fact, I can't imagine anyone being jealous of that pull-over. But, I digress. The bright colors caught my eye and led me to look at his face, which was equally as bright. It looked like he had a bad, peeling sunburn down one half of his face.

He was the type of kid that was always willing to raise his hand and try to answer a question that there was no way he knew. If there was a question about a Greek god or something, he was first to raise his hand and shout, "Zeus!" He knew Zeus was a god and he was willing to take a stab at answering the question everytime, but not in a snotty sort of way, in a playful "I'll try" sort of way. So, not only was his outfit distinct, but his personality was as well. One day our professor, a middle-aged woman with a boy-cut, who could drone on and on for hours about the street lamps in various cities across the globe, asked for a volunteer on stage. I knew the sprite in the front row would be first to raise his hand and I was correct. She asked him to stand at one side of the stage with a basketball, while she stood at the other holding a ping-pong ball, demonstrating the size and distance of Earth compared to the sun. It was a riveting demonstration, not because of the novel concept she was sharing, but because the volunteer no longer had a half-sunburn nor was wearing a clown-costume. A solid polo shirt and an un-scarred face did him well. Without the baggy, distracting pull-over, I could see he was well-built: broad shoulders, strong arms, and a nice smile. He was quite the looker!

A week later, I was coming around the corner to go to class, and he happened to be cutting the same corner in a hurry, and we bumped into each other - literally. I threw my hands up, and he did, too.

This was quite a surprise to me. I was now holding hands with the formerly scar-faced, Rainbow Brite dude, who was much more handsome at this point. I sheepishly ducked away and went on to class, apologizing for bumping into him.

Astronomy class was my easiest of freshman classes and I had taken it for that reason. I had begun my first semester with an agressive schedule: 18 hours filled with prerequisites for my Speech Pathology major, honors courses, plus an anatomy class that is usually the pivotal class for nursing majors. I was ready for a break my second semester and Astronomy fit the bill. I always went to class because I firmly believed no one took better notes than I, and if I went, that was one less hour I'd have to study for the test. I could pick up most of the information in the class through osmosis. So, many of the class periods were filled with me doodling my name a million times in my notebook and glancing to the front row to see if the sprite was looking my way. Many times he was, so I'd have to be careful and monitor my glances as if I was looking at the clock or staring into space as he looked my way.

I increasingly found myself listening to see if I could determine his name. I hadn't been listening before his basketball demonstration when the professor called him up because I had already dismissed the possibility of us ever being together. I was 18, sporting my bangs, and freedom in college. What did I need with a scar-faced sprite? He was bound to volunteer for another demonstration or raise his hand to ask a question about Greek mythology at some point, then I'd know whether he had a name I could possibly date. No offense, but if his name had been "Mutt" or "Zeke" or something to that effect, it wasn't going to happen.

Another week passed, and I was walking out of class with my graded test in hand. I hear, "Ala, what'd you make on that test?" (My initials were on my backpack: April Leigh Alexander.)

I turned around and shamelessly said, "98, what about you?"

"86."

In astronomy for crying out loud! This is a freshman class to get an easy A.

Instead, I said, "Well, at least it's only the first test of the semester."

"Then, you want to study some time?"

"Sure." (We exchanged numbers, but never called each other.)

The next class, he asked why I hadn't waved back at him at Preston the previous day. Preston Center is the workout facility on campus and by this time, I was well-acquainted with the fact that people thought they saw me when they were seeing my sister, and vice versa. Actually, Amber and I had a pact that if someone waved at us, we were bound by sisterly kindness to wave back even if we didn't know the person just to keep each other from looking like complete snobs. Apparently she hadn't see him wave.

I quickly explained the twin thing, the bell rang and we took our seats.

That was the class period the professor finally called his name, "Greg (hmmm, not so terrible) Foster (NICE!)." Possibly that whole class period I resisted the urge to doodle "April Foster," although I did like the combination.

The next class, he immediately came up to me and said, "You know you were telling me about having a twin?"

"Yes."

"Well, what I didn't tell you is that I have a twin, too."

Lame. Seriously lame. No you don't or you would have said that to begin with. You really expect me to believe that?

"Really, what's his name?"

"Jason, and I told him about you and your sister and would ya'll like to go out sometime?"


"Sure, just give me a call and we'll work out the details. You still have my number don't you?"

"Yes."

(I'll be back later to tell part 2 of the story....come back and read especially if you want to know what the wierd sun-burn actually was.)