I had purple hair. It had been black then blue then purple (and the next phase was red) because I was going through an all-too-obvious phase. Matt did not like the hair (or the phase) and wasn't super keen on me during this time. We were like a year plus into our courtship and there were some bumps.
But anyway, it was like my Junior year in High School. My Grandpa Glade always had season tickets to the BYU football games and usually shared a game (or more) with his grandkids (even after he passed away.) He was the type of guy that listened to the radio while watching it live (a trait which he passed on to my BYU loving father) and he also yelled "Jiminy Christmas!" when things weren't going our way. Some of my fondest memories of my grandpa are BYU games (along with croquet, the tire swing, and wheel of fortune the computer game.)
So it's junior year of HS. Matt and I headed down to the BYU game with some friends (there were 4 season tickets) since I had scored them for this particular game. I don't even know what friends came with us (was it any of you?) But I was being super annoying, as I tended to do as my 17 year old self, and started singing that song "What's your flava.. tell me what's your flava..." that was really popular on the Fanta commercials (you know what I'm talking about, right?) Well I was singing it non-stop on the drive down because it's like the hardest ever-lovin' song to get out of your head once it's begun (only rivaled by the lamb song... which I won't even type for fear it will never leave my head. "this is the song that... never mind. I have to stop.Eww.)
And right when we got out of the car to walk to the stadium I started up again. "What's your flava... tell me what's your flava... ah huh..." and Matt looks me dead in the eyes and says, "NOT GRAPE. So stop singing."
Grape because I had purple hair!
Oh the nerve. The wit! The nerve.
I think we had a good time at the game and probably made-out later because I wasn't actually mad at him for it, but don't put it past me to have been super annoying & pouty (I already told you, my 17 year old self just acted that way sometimes.)
We went to the BYU game last month (so 10 years after the story I just told you) and I did not have purple hair. My 27 year old self knows better than that. But Matt still had his wits about him and made some pretty hilarious jokes (color guard does not a flag girl make, my dear) and we had a really good time (even with a loss.) We hung out with my radio-listening dad & his wife, Kim, along with my Uncle James and his super-fan son, Dallin who sat in the other two seats from Grandpa. (Thanks for keeping the tickets, Aunt LeeAnne!)
It was perfect football weather with overcast skies and a tiny bit of sprinkling rain. Also the perfect weather for self portraits because is there ever bad weather for vanity?