February 14, 1995. Girl crazy.

I was girl crazy back in 1995. I didn’t really think about this at the time, and I never would have admitted it publicly. But it seems like I always had cute girls on my mind, and I had a lot of crushes. Andrea Briggs from math class. Megan McCauley, the RA from Building K, but I was still getting used to the green hair. A redhead from math class whose name I didn’t know yet. Brittany from Texas, whom I knew online, even though she likes the wrong football team, and she had mentioned a boyfriend before. Kim from Florida, whom I had just met online a week ago. This cute curly-haired girl whom I had seen around the dining hall; I had no idea what her name was.

And then there were all the crushes left over from high school, in particular two girls whom I had just met senior year who were both really nice to me, but neither one had stayed in touch. Annie Gambrell had a boyfriend, so that was pretty much hopeless. And the last thing that Jennifer Henson had said to me was “I’m sure I’ll talk to you again before we move away,” but she didn’t. I should point out, however, that Jennifer was actually one of the first high school friends to find me when I started using Facebook in 2007. Although we’re on good terms, let’s just say that, knowing what she is like as an adult, I now know we wouldn’t have made a good couple.

Despite all that, I never acted on any of these feelings. I didn’t really know how. No one ever taught me anything about dating or the opposite sex; my dad and I didn’t really have that kind of relationship growing up. Dad worked nights, slept for most of the day, and his whole side of the family doesn’t really talk much. I was so afraid of people for most of my teens that I never even had any awkward attempts to ask someone out. I asked Renee Robertson to prom senior year, but we were just going as friends, and she knew it. I went with Lisa Swan to winter ball junior year, but she asked me, not the other way around. I awkwardly told Melissa Holmes that I liked her in the middle of senior year, but I had never actually tried to ask her out. That didn’t go so well, although of course we were still friends, and so far she has stayed in touch most consistently out of all my high school friends.

All of this made me a little discouraged over the fact that today was Valentine’s Day. I had never really done anything for Valentine’s Day before. When I was a kid, sometimes Mom would buy me candy, but that’s Mom so it doesn’t really count. In elementary school, there was the usual thing of bringing Valentine cards to everyone in your class, but that doesn’t really mean a lot either. I had never had a date for Valentine’s Day, and this day just seemed to be full of reminders of that fact.

In math class this morning, the cute redhead sat next to me, but we were taking a test so I couldn’t interact with her at all. Then I had chemistry discussion; there was a really friendly girl in there named Marissa, a sophomore, but I really didn’t think she was that cute. Next, I had my class for the Interdisciplinary Honors Program. I don’t remember the exact title of the class, but it was about South Africa, combining elements of literature and cultural anthropology, taught by an anthropology professor named Dr. Dick Small. That’s pretty much the worst name ever. He kind of reminded me of Bill Murray.

Oddly enough, I didn’t really have any big crushes on any of the other IHP students. I’m not exactly sure why that is. There were some cute girls in the program. Maybe since I actually lived with them and saw them all the time, it was just too weird to think of them that way and then have to see them face to face. That kind of seems counterintuitive, though; if I see them all the time, then I’d get the chance to talk to them more, and theoretically that should be what I want. Or maybe it’s because I did talk to them more, enough to realize that none of them was really what I was looking for. I don’t know. My brain works in strange ways sometimes.

I got back to Building C around 2:00, my classes done for the day. I owed Brittany from Texas an email reply from last night, so I began typing.


From: gjdennison@jeromeville.edu
To: swimgirl17@aolnet.com
Date: Tue, 14 Feb 1995 14:16 -0800
Subject: stuff

No, I’m not doing anything for Valentine’s Day. I’m not good with dating and that stuff. What about you? Any special plans with your boyfriend?

How was your day? I had a math test. I think I did pretty well. I’m learning a lot of new things that I didn’t learn in high school, like partial derivatives, but I’m keeping up so far. There’s basketball here tonight, so I’ll be going to that. The conference that UJ plays in has men’s and women’s games on the same night, so we get to watch two games, and students get in free. Have a great rest of the day!

-gjd


I lay down on the bed for a while, daydreaming about cute girls, then I started reading for the South Africa class. Around 4:00, there was a knock on the door. I got up and opened the door; Gina and Skeeter were standing there, each holding a plastic grocery bag.

“Hey, Greg,” Skeeter said.

“We made Valentines,” Gina said as she started looking through her bag. “Here’s yours.”

It took a few seconds for me to process what they said. Gina handed me a small card of the sort that elementary school students bring their friends on Valentine’s Day, and Skeeter handed me another one a few seconds later.

“Wow,” I said. “Thank you so much! This means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Gina answered. “We just wanted to do something nice for all of our friends here in the IHP.”

“I appreciate it.”

I read what each of them had written.


To: Greg
From: Gina
I always like your limericks and poems. Happy V Day!

To: Greg
From: Skeeter
Keep writing poems… I’ll show you mine, too, if you want

1995-02 valentines


I chuckled. “I see my poetry made an impact on you guys,” I said.

“Seriously, you’re hilarious,” Gina said. “Have you ever thought about being a writer or anything like that? I know you’re a math guy, but you’re really good with words.”

“I don’t know.”

“And you can be really dark too,” Skeeter added. “Like me. I like that.”

“We’re going to go deliver the rest of these. Are you going to the basketball game tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you there.”

“I won’t,” Skeeter said. “I’m staying home to study. That, and I don’t really watch basketball.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll see you there. And Skeeter, good luck studying.”

 

The basketball game was against Bidwell State. I sat with the Colt Crew student cheering section, along with about twelve other people from Building C. As was the case with football games, there were certain cheers that the fans would do, led by the Colt Crew student leaders. When the Colts were shooting a free throw, for example, everyone would raise both hands, and if the shot was good, we would all go “Whoosh!” and swing our arms straight down. Part of the fun of college sporting events is the way that these traditions carry on for many generations. I went to a Jeromeville Colts basketball game during the most recent season, in February 2019, and they still do the Whoosh thing today.

During halftime of the women’s game, one of the Colt Crew leaders announced into a megaphone, “Hey, Colt Crew! After this game, stay right where you are for another game, featuring the Colt men’s basketball team! And here they come now, with a gift for you!”

A bunch of tall students wearing white, blue, and gold jerseys, the same colors as the women’s jerseys but with a slightly different design, came running out in front of the Colt Crew section. They began throwing gold-colored rubber balls into the crowd with the Jeromeville Colts logo on them. One of them was coming straight toward me; I jumped up and caught it, and almost fell on Gina in front of me as I came down.

“Whoa!” Gina shouted.

“Sorry,” I said.

Mike Adams, sitting between Gina and his girlfriend Kim, noticed what was going on. “Hey, Greg caught a ball! Nice!”

“Thanks!” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the ball, but it might be fun to save it like a trophy, a reminder of the time I actually caught the ball.

The women won their game, 62 to 55. As the men’s game kept going, I couldn’t help but notice Mike and Kim in front of me gradually getting closer. They went from holding hands, to Kim leaning her head on his shoulder, to standing when the rest of the crowd stood around us but with Mike behind Kim and his arms around her from behind. I kept thinking that they were going to have a good Valentine’s Day. Maybe they’d go back to one of their rooms after the game and get it on. Not that it was any of my business. Just something else that it seemed like other people got to experience, but I didn’t.

During halftime of the men’s game, the Colt Crew leaders did Tube Sock Madness, where they throw tube socks into the crowd. I still don’t know where that tradition started, but I didn’t catch any this time. The men won their game, 76 to 71.

About half an hour after we all got home from the game, I was in my room catching up on the Pink Floyd Usenet group, and thinking about how I should probably go to bed, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said, knowing that I had not locked the door.

Kathleen from room 212 walked in. I was a little surprised, just because I didn’t know Kathleen that well, and I didn’t have any classes with her, so I wasn’t sure exactly why she would be looking for me, especially at 10:30 on a Tuesday night.

“I was hoping you’d still be awake. I could see from under your door that the light was on. You know that ball you caught at the game tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied hesitantly, not sure where she was going with this.

Kathleen seemed to be holding back giggles. “The player who threw it, Jason Simmons, my roommate and I think he’s really hot. We were wondering if we could have that ball.”

Wow. Apparently I was not the only one on Valentine’s Day sitting in my room thinking about hopeless crushes. I didn’t feel so bad about it anymore. “Sure,” I said, smiling. I handed Kathleen the ball.

“Thanks so much!” she said.

“No problem. Have a good night.”

“You too!”

A few minutes later, I checked my email. Brittany had replied to my message from earlier.


From: swimgirl17@aolnet.com
To: gjdennison@jeromeville.edu
Date: Tue, 14 Feb 1995 21:33 -0600
Subject: Re: stuff

I’m not doing anything for Valentines Day. And I don’t have a boyfriend. We broke up two months ago. I didn’t do anything special today, just swim practice and homework. Tomorrow is my best friend’s birthday so we’ll be going out to dinner to celebrate. How was the basketball game? And I have no idea what a partial derivative is. I’m only in Algebra 2.

-Brittany


I shut down the computer, changed into the clothes I would wear to bed, and walked down to the bathroom. I was feeling a little better about myself now. Sure, I was alone on Valentine’s Day while Mike Adams and his girlfriend were probably getting some, along with thousands of other UJ students. But I wasn’t the only one. On the way back from the bathroom, I walked past Kathleen’s room, wondering if she and her roommate were still giggling over having a ball that had been thrown by that basketball player she liked.

Lying in bed, I thought about Brittany not having a boyfriend anymore. I wished I could have taken her out for Valentine’s Day, but she was over a thousand miles away. Maybe we would actually meet someday. (We didn’t.) It wasn’t the best Valentine’s Day for me, but that’s ok. Maybe next year would be different. I had good friends here at UJ, and elsewhere too; that really does matter, and it is something to be grateful for.

4 thoughts on “February 14, 1995. Girl crazy.

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