it's nothing special....it's just kriss

So last Saturday....yes, I know, it's almost Saturday again. But last Saturday I had a little...adventure. I was not in the most stellar condition. I had been fighting a raging head cold and sinus infection all week long and just couldn't seem to kick it. I woke up coughing my guts out at 7:30ish and decided to go take some cough medicine so I could sleep a little longer. Problem: The only cough medicine I had in my house was PM - you know, the super drowsy don't operate heavy machinery after taking this medicine...ever...PM (Yes, Austi - that hyperexaggeration was just for you. :)). Solution: Take it anyway. How bad could it be? Coughing adequately suppressed, I went back to bed for a few more hours. Upon waking up, I realized I didn't have my cell phone. I ran to the door to look for it in my car. But it was raining and I was wearing slippers. So I ran back up the stairs, feeling more than a little drugged, and grabbed my sandals. I was hurrying back downstairs with m

For those of you who instantly recognized the title of this post - I am warning you that this will be a repeat...a very, dreadful repeat. But I decided it is time to bring this story out of the woodwork ... Not so much for my own benefit, but to console friends and aquaintences in their epic, lip-locked struggles. I also decided, that all first kisses should be horrible, awful and highly traumatic. Why? Because horrible, awful and highly traumatic first kisses = HIGHLY entertaining stories for posterity! Anyway, here it goes. It was my first year at Utah State. I was, yes I admit it, I was the LAST and lingering VL in my apartment. And while I was stubbornly and proudly clinging to that title, along came John. I could tell he really liked me (which should always be the first clue there is something seriously wrong with a man). So I let him take me out on a couple of dates. On our second or third date, it was pretty obvious that he wanted to kiss me. Unfortunately for him, I was not yet