Anyway, so that you have it in context, here's what I was thinking: The sentence (for the guest post) might go something like this: "I'm convinced that a little upfront brown nosing is never a bad idea. Especially when they think they are just doing something nice for someone else".
The guest post, by the way, will appear on the 16th, but I can't tell you where. I'm not sure if it's a secret.
But anyway, the term "brown nosing" reminded me of this girl named Melissa I had in High School French. She was very aloof, very pretty, very goth, and very intimidating. She accused me of brown nosing the teacher. Up until that point in my life, I had never heard the term. I was like, "huh"? But I tried to act like I knew what she was talking about so she wouldn't think I was a moron, but she saw right through me. So, she was kind enough to explain it to me. My "huh?" turned into a "huh!". I never knew my modi operandi had a name. Oh, yes......I flattered my way into others good graces even then.
Thinking of Melissa made me recall her boyfriend who shall remain nameless because, well, I can't remember. I'm not convinced I ever even knew it in the first place. But that's beside the point. I had a crush on him.....as in, he was an upper class man that was different and cool and so attractive, even though he was goth. I wanted a cool boyfriend just like him. Just smarter. I think he even talked to me occasionally.....which was OK because he wasn't the brightest light on the block. I didn't have to worry about being flustered by intelligent conversation from a cute guy.
And then I remembered my 6th grade crush. His name was John V. He was a 7th grader. We had 2 classes together and he sat right behind me in both classes since our last names were near each other in the alphabet. Now that I think about it though, I don't know why he sat behind me.....his last name came first. Anyway, there's a mystery that shall remain unsolved....he was SO cute, and he was nice. And he talked to me all the time. My crush lasted all year. He was always asking me who I liked and I always enjoyed telling him that I would never tell. Then one day my sister, my flesh and blood ratted me out. We won't even go into how mad I was at her. Then, he, Mr. John V. had the nerve to tell me he knew who I liked. Well, that was THAT. I never spoke to him again. I mean, I was MORTIFIED.
Which made me think of a crush I had on another guy my Freshman year. I had English with him and we sat on opposite sides of the classroom. I could tell that he was smart, even though he didn't volunteer answers. He was cute, AND he played basketball. He didn't know I existed, which at the time was fine by me. I was able to gaze at his unsuspecting face for a whole hour every day. He was also "taken" by my friend. Or so I thought. She had his name doodled on every square inch of school material she owned. I felt fine waiting to move in on her territory, then. I forgot about my resolve Sophomore year. Junior year I saw him a few times and recalled with nostalgia how he was the only guy my age that I thought was cute in the good ol' days. Senior year, I pounced. That chick from before was history.
And now we've been married a decade and we have 5 kids.
*Don't forgot to join me tomorrow for Wordful Wednesday. It's just not as fun without you.