It went like this:

I love sharing stories and people are always asking how Ethan and I met, so I thought I would recount my first experiences with Ethan here. I had so much fun writing this! Please enjoy this little piece of history and don’t judge me for how much I talk to myself in my head!

I have a few memories of Ethan before I actually knew him, they are small and silly but I don’t want to forget them.

We met in college, it went like this:


The first time I ever saw him. (Fall, Freshman year of college)

I spent a lot of time my freshman year walking around campus and making friends.

One day I was walking to my dorm, all alone, and I saw this little brown Honda Accord drive veryyyy reasonablyyyy into my dorm’s parking lot. Ethan was driving– a tall, skinny blonde boy driving an ugly, little car. I thought several things to myself.

“Wow, he’s driving so slow, he must be a good driver.”

“He is too tall for that car.”

“I bet he’s a really nice guy.” Come on, nice guys drive clunkers, it’s a fact!

“He is just cute.”

“No, he’s a nerd.”


The first time I ever talked to him. (Winter, Freshman year of college)

Ethan and I apparently took health and fitness at the same time, but didn’t know it. Probably because I skipped classes all the time my freshman year!

Ethan and I lived in the same dorm our freshman year of college. Our dorm had two very separate living areas for boys and girls, to get to the other side you needed a key. It was a few days before our health and fitness final.

I was walking to the men’s side of our dorm to study with a friend; he was leaving the men’s side. It went like this:

Ethan opens door to men’s side.

Brandy: “Oh can you hold that!”

Ethan does not hold door. (Seriously, what a loser!!!)

Ethan: “Where are you going?”

Brandy: “To study for the final with my friend who has some old test questions.”

Ethan: “So you’re cheating?”

Brandy: “No.”

I remember thinking to myself: “I hope I never have to work on a group project with that guy.”

JOKE’S ON ME, my life is a group project with that guy!

[Please note, the questions we studied were not on the exam.]


The second time I ever talked to him. (Spring, Freshman year of college)

I enrolled in a Speech class my freshman year. It was the day of our ‘how-to presentations’ where most students baked treats and then gave a speech explaining ‘how-to’ make them. Ethan was not in my class, but he was there on this particular day pouring milk for his then-girlfriend’s speech. It went like this:

Ethan approaches my desk with a Solo cup and a gallon of whole milk.

Ethan: “Would you like some milk?”

Brandy: “What kind?”

Ethan: “Whole milk, the best milk.”

Brandy: “Umm. Wellll I don’t really drink whole milk.” (My family drinks skim or 1%).

Ethan: “You have to try it; it’s so good.”

If I had known I would marry him, I would’ve kissed him on the lips right then and there. I drink whole milk every day of my life now, sometimes I make him pour it for old times’ sake.


The story I will tell my kids. (Fall, Sophomore year of college)

I am going to tell my truth here. Ethan has disagreements, but everyone should be able to have their own version of their favorite bedtime story.

I lived with some fabulous ladies my sophomore year of college. We lived in a co-ed dorm; but don’t worry Grama, we had separate, private bathrooms. One of the first days back on campus my gorgeous and amazing roommate Carlene wanted to go for a bike ride. As you may notice from the remainder of this blog, I love physical activity. I love running. I love biking. I love swimming. I love moving. So I was pumped to ride with my new awesome roommate.

One problem. No bike.

I stepped out into the hallway and spotted my friend Kayla. Bingo. Borrow a bike.

I ran down to Kayla: “Hey do you have a bike I could borrow?”

Kayla: “No, but I know Ethan has a bike. He lives in the room above you.”

Thinking that I did not want to talk to that guy again I asked: “Can I just ask his girlfriend like where it’s at?” (Kayla roomed with his then-girlfriend).

Kayla: “Ohhh umm noo because they broke up.”

This is where Ethan’s story and mine will differ.

My version (and the truth)—Brandy: “Dang it, I guess I’ll go ask him myself.”

Ethan’s delusional version—Brandy: “YES! NOW IS MY CHANCE!” He thinks that because he is almost a foot taller than me the only possible reason I would’ve asked to borrow his bike is because I was crazy in love with him. This is false.

I climbed the stairs to the room directly above mine. Knocked on the door… It went like this:

Brandy (in my head): “Please don’t answer. It’s not too late. Just turn around, drive to Walmart, buy a bike, never have to—“

Ethan OPENS DOOR. Confused: “Hello?”

He claims his brain was saying: “Whoa. Gorgeous hair. Gorgeous smile. Gorgeous eyes. Whoa.”

And I actually kind of believe him.

Brandy: “Hi. Can I borrow your bike?”

Ethan: “Um yeah.” And this is where he RAMBLED about the bike for almost 3 whole minutes. I probably should’ve listened to the ramblings because I think somewhere in there he said something about the brakes being broken, but I was just ready to be out of there.

I finally cut him off: “So where is the bike?”

He explained and I got out of there as fast as I could.


He closed the door, turned around and started looking for me on Facebook.

He closed the door, I turned around and thought to myself “Hmm. I have to return the bike, if I put it in a different location I’ll have to tell him where it’s at. Then I will have an excuse to talk to him again.”

After that I got my own bike and we started riding together. The rest is history.


Now we have tons of bicycle art in our house. We ride together often enough that when we drive around town there are multiple places Ethan can stop and say “Oh remember when you crashed in that spot?”

The first time we held hands.


Hybrid bike rides now-a-days.


2010, maybe?



2 thoughts on “It went like this:

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