My Second Date.

Well, it isn't really my second date. It's actually just my second date since I got up here to BYU-Idaho. (Not to mention the fact that it was also a "Blind" date.)

His name was Paul and he's from Wisconsin. We went bowling at the Teton Lanes yesterday and then after that we went out and had dinner at Dairy Queen. There were five couples total and, in case you're one of those people who are bad at math, that's ten people!

Bowling was fun. Though, I can honestly say that I stink at it. And there was always that one pin that never wanted to fall. And I swear it was the same one each time. It's like a bowling curse that I have. Anyway, dinner was fun too. Our group date split up for dinner; the half who finished early went out to Cold Stone and the rest of us, as you know, went to Dairy Queen. After that we all went back to our apartment and played a few card games. And I was bad at those too.

...When I first started writing this post I thought: "Why? Why does it matter that my readers know about this?" Well, it doesn't. It wasn't some spectacular thing -though it was very fun. And there really is no reason for you to need to know this. But then, there was something, one very tiny thing that I thought you might enjoy. And that tiny thing -something that I hope you've never experienced -was simply this: My date, throughout the entire evening, reminded me so much of my brother Jacob. So much in fact that there were a few times that I wanted to call him 'Jacob'. Is that bad? I mean, I hear people say all the time that girls tend to marry a man who is much like their father, and visa-versa for men finding someone like their mothers. But is this the same thing? Finding someone like your brother? I don't know. Regardless, I thought it was very ...interesting. I haven't seen my brother in almost a year and, most unfortunately, this date was almost like seeing him again.

My date and I got along very well. We always had something to talk about and literally everything he told me was something that reminded me of my brother. He told me a story on our way home of how his sister, just a year younger than him, was always getting on his case whenever he drove. He told me that the two of them were usually very good friends and that there were a few times that they'd want to rip each others heads off. More or less. Now, if you know my brother and I at all you'll know that we have this same relationship with each other. I mean, when Paul told me these things it was like hearing my brother again, only describing us instead. Is that weird? I mean, think about it. For those of you who are married, do your husbands, at any point in time, ever remind you of a certain brother you have?