Boy Shopping

I was laying in bed last night reading a book, where one of the characters is called Ghost-Boy.  This naturally led me to thinking of all of the names that I used to give the boys on which I had crushes in college.  You know the ones that I was afraid to talk to.
First-Aid-Boy, Yard-Boy, Danny-Boy, ROTC-Boy, Running-Boy,
Library-Boy (Also known as lets-go-to-the-library-and-"study"-every-day-for-a-semester-until-you-start-to-get-a-crush-on-me-and-then-announce-your-fiance-is-coming-from-the-phillipines-boy),
and Bagelby's-Boy (whom my roommate actually liked, but I later found out was also my neighbor's Social-Dance-Boy).

I had an epiphany: My search for boys was similar to impulse-shopping.

First, lets review the boy search (I was boy crazy, afterall):

I saw the-boy.  I thought I would die if I didn't talk to him.

I talked to him in class, or at devotional.  Whatever.

I thought I would never be able to live without him.  

I agree to a date.

Next, lets compare it to my impulse-shopping:

I see the cutest bracelets I have ever seen.  So cute they make my heart ache.

I look at them while I am shopping.

I move on, continue shopping, all the while thinking about these bracelets, knowing they would look perfect with that black top in my closet.  My heart was aching after all.

I give in and go back.   

Finally, the conclusion:

They are cute, but would be cuter on someone else's arm.  

They kind of itch and aren't very comfortable.  

I most definitely would never be able to live with them.

I forget about them.

At least the boy-shopping has been retired.  Now to master the impulse-shopping.