I have never been engaged. Or close to getting engaged. Of course, since I'm a girl, I've been ring shopping, wedding dress shopping, and practiced signing my "married" name with whatever crush I had at the time, but I've never been engaged. Which means...
I did meet and shake hands with Ross Perot. Years ago I was eating at Super Salad in Dallas with Mama Mia and the siblings. There was a little commotion at the register where a man was explaining how he'd been overcharged. When he turned to head back to his table, Mama Mia realized it was Ross Perot. She loudly called his name and asked him to come to the table. She introduced each of us and then mentioned I would head back to BYU in the fall. If there's one thing I remember about Ross Perot, it's that he's a fast talker!
"OhBYU. YesThat'sANiceSchool. Yes,yes,that'sANiceSchool. RealPurtyCampusThey'veGot. RealPurty. AndNicePeopleToo. WellNiceToMeetYou."
I did play sax for the jazz band my senior year. Our band trip that year was a l.o..o...o....n.....g drive to Branson Missouri. My jazz band opened for Barbara Fairchild. Never heard of her? Yeah, me neither. The top jazz band opened for Wayne Newton. You might have heard of him. He's in Vegas now.
I can't touch raw meat. Well, okay. Let me rephrase that. I seriously gag when I touch raw meat. But I eat meat which means it has to be raw at some point and cooking involves touching. So, little secret: I wear gloves. That's right. Plastic-food-handlers-permit type gloves. When a girl needs meat, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!
I did sprain both ankles at the same time. Ouch. Sad, sad day. My sophomore year of college a few of us went to a rope swing in town. I'm not good at math so see if you can figure out this equation:
Tall Tree + Rope that touches ground + tall, gangly girl holding bottom of rope = lots of pain.
I did have my first and only hangover when I was 18. I went to a birthday party for my bestest- friend-Elke. There was lots of alcohol at the party but she kindly informed her friends that she and I didn't drink. I had my solo cup full of Sprite and someone else had their solo cup full of concoction. I innocently picked up the wrong drink and guzzled the whole cup to quench my thirst. The taste was awful. The only thing worse than the fiery burn down my throat was that I couldn't get the room to stop spinning. Then I drove home! Miraculously I made it. The next day I felt horrible. My stomach hurt and my head felt unproportionately huge to my little neck. I could hardly hold it up. I told Mama Mia what had happened and she started laughing. She yelled into the other room, "P2! Com'ere! Charlottalove is getting over her first and only hangover." Mama Mia...You're yelling...it hurts...stop laughing at me...
And now you know. It's a good thing I wasn't cooking chicken when I met Ross Perot. No one wants to shake hands with a plastic, slimy glove. Gag