This whole story and wedding business actually started in July of 1997, five months prior to the proposal. Now supposedly, men don't inherently have a sense of style, but I knew what sort of ring the both of us had in mind when I had free time to look...which wasn't often. I made "the purchase" in secret, but kept teasing Brenda for half a year that I did in fact have the ring, using reverse-psychology on her so that she accepted this as a lie, but wasn't quite sure! So on this went for summer vacation I teased her about the ring, for Fall Quarter at school I teased her about the ring. I had this lame job as a photo clerk at Walgreen's working for peanuts 20 hours a week, which is degrading enough. And since I was seasonal, what with out of state college and all, I took over when the regular employees wanted vacation time i.e. Christmas Day and New Years day. This really upset Brenda, she would be with me 24 hours a day if she had her wish. Even small amounts of seperation are traumatic, so you can imagine how she felt about me being away on the biggest of family holidays. Anyway, the gig they hooked me up with was that I was to play Santa Clause for a day. Why have Santa at Walgreen's you ask? Well, some marketing geek decided that if we took pictures of kids on Santa's lap, and gave away free pictures to the parents, why then they would want reprints and Christmas greeting cards and calendars and... well you get it...and while I was a big boy (6'1" 230lbs) I DIDN'T have a Santa Claus physique. At ALL. Not even CLOSE! So Brenda thought she would drop by and make sure the children weren't harrassing me too much and so she could get a free picture, presumably for blackmail, I don't know. Unbeknownst to her, though, I had already arranged with the manager and photographer days prior. But ahh, the day of...what horror! I could drive a car, HONEST. But I couldn't AFFORD a car, mommy drove when Brenda couldn't. It wasn't sexy or cool, of course, but what's a guy to do? So anyway, I had to ask permission from Mr. and Mrs. Goddard to take their little girl away from them, that's the kind of guy I am, the traditionalist. With Mom driving, yay. Actually she stopped me from embarassing myself a WHOLE lot. Having a large vocabulary and being nervous doesn't mix well, for some reason I had it in my head that I was asking for her parents "condolences," though that would have been funny, I guess. So Mom corrected me, between huge snorts of laughter, and drove me to the Goddard residence at about 9am December 20th, 1997.

Brenda was at work. Ok so it wasn't Mission:Impossible, but it was sneaky and she didn't catch on. I was impressed with myself! Her father and I sat on opposite ends of the room and talked to each other while our mothers sat in the center of the room, my mother with this retarded grin and Brenda's mother wearing a look of pleasant concern. I got to the, "I'm gonna ask your daughter to marry me..." bit (no, I'm not telling how, you guys figure it out on your own!) without becoming TOO red, Dan said that he was ok with the idea, but asked if there was any hurry to have the ceremony, in a tone suggesting that it would be horrible to bring up a child without a father, if you catch my drift. I assured him that we would be taking our sweet time and at least finishing college before the wedding. Mission accomplished! I headed for Walgreen's to complete Phase Two!

What's to say, really? Santa Claus at Walgreen's was a flop. You can't picture it, I couldn't picture it. Just that one marketing geek, too much time in a cubicle I suppose! Not many people showed up.

I was glad to see Brenda when she arrived. I didnt' know if her mom had given anything away, she's not good with secrets you see, but Brenda didn't know anything as far as I could tell. So she sat on my lap. I asked if she wanted anything special for Christmas, seeing as how I knew she had been a good girl all year. She said that she would like for Santa Claus not to have to be a photo clerk on Christmas. "Well," I said, "I'm afraid I can't arrange for that, but how about this?" I pulled the small box from under my seat. I was supporting her back with my left arm and was wearing gloves. A gloved, one-handed box-opening...degree of difficulty: 8.5! I did alright with it. Oh yeah, she said yes, I was pleased with that. Later, her parents came by to torment me, not that I hold grudges.

Anyways, heres a wonderful picture of Brenda's mother, Jan, trying to plea-bargain her way out of yet another stocking full of coal...