story time

Over the weekend, the BF and I attended a gorgeous wedding for one of his college friends. (Since I've attended double digits in weddings in the last two years, I tend to critique things because they all start to look the same after awhile. The decorations were amazing - fall scene with browns and golds that completely transformed the room. It was a great location to begin with but you get the point.) That's beside the point though.

I've only met his college girl friends a few times because most of them live outside of Ohio. However, it never ceases to amaze me the stories they share of him from back in their days at John Carroll. Here's a snippet of our conversations:

"Do you remember when Colleen walked in on you?"
"No, I think I walked in on him with that girl," Jill said.
"Do you remember when his car was stuck in the snow and none of us would help him?," Amy said. "We all just peeked through the blinds which pissed him off even more."
"He lived in the basement. I think it was his idea to move in with us."
"Didn't I blond tip your hair?"

He turned red but never really denied any of it. (I guess you can't when 4 other people have the exact same story.) It seems that they all had a great laugh, and continue to do so, at the BF's expense.

See, his last year of college he lived with four girls - all of whom I've met over the last two years. What on earth made him move in with them is beyond me? Maybe he wasn't aware that we fight, are messy, leave clothes all over and trade shoes and shirts like it's going out of style. Needless to say, they all have their favorite "BF" story and will probably share them on here now - they read the blog.

I wonder how many guys lived with girls and have lived to tell about it? Could you imagine? People like Narm or Tawwd might pull their hair out and OPENLY start wearing Secret deodorant and shaving with women's shaving cream. Maybe that's where the obsession came from?