Thank God for lame parties

Last Thursday was me and David’s anniversary, the anniversary of when we started dating and of when we got married but that all pales in comparison to how it all began.

Once upon a time about six and a half years ago my friend Drew came into the mediocre diner where I worked and invited my friend Abby and I to a party he was having that night.  Drew was in college so this was a college party; I was in high school so by virtue of being invited to college parties I was not only totally awesome but also a huge badass.

It was a pretty lame party, the same lame stuff that goes on at every party… that is until everyone sat down in a circle to play a drinking game.

Suddenly, out of the crowd came a boy I hadn’t seen and took his place in the circle directly across from me.  My heart stopped for a second… this wasn’t just any boy, this boy was GORGEOUS.  And when I say gorgeous I mean ’skipping breaths-can’t take my eyes off him-if this was an old movie I would faint’ gorgeous.  He had shoulder length red hair, eyes the color of the sky before it storms, and the aura that fell somewhere between the coolest kid in school and the buddha.  And did I mention he was gorgeous?

I couldn’t pay attention to the game because I was too busy trying to find the appropriate amount to look at him… I didn’t want to stare because then he would recognize me for the lame totally-crushing-on-him kid that I was but I didn’t want to never look at him because then it would seem like I didn’t like him at all.

You wouldn’t believe how complicated something like figuring out how often you’re suppose to look at a person can be.

Every time I would look over at him though he would already be looking at me and instead of awkwardly looking away pretending he hadn’t been staring like I would have done he would hold my gaze and smile at me.  He was quiet, the whole game I never heard him talk, but every time I would look at him it would be the same look… the same smile….

I lay awake that night thinking about the mysterious gorgeous redhead and the next day went back over to Drew’s apartment with some half baked excuse for doing so I’m sure but really it was to ask who that guy was.  When I asked Drew he rolled his eyes and sighed ”Jeeze, get a room you two.” and then added after I gave him a quizzical look “After the party last night David kept bugging me ‘Who was the really pretty girl with the  curly black hair?  Who was that girl?’”   I smiled.  David.  His name was David.  And apparently he thought I was pretty.

That love at first sight moment gave way to a madly in love romance with no doubt that we were meant to be together on either end.  Eventually there was a night of getting our dance on at a club till the wee hours when he officially asked me out, a million late nights watching documentaries and indie films, so many more mediocre parties where we drank too much and did ridiculous things that I probably shouldn’t recount in detail here incase our kids read it someday, many more instances of us not paying attention to the game at hand because we were busy staring at each other… eventually a move across the country to start a new adventure, a wedding, making some tiny people….

And here we are, more than six years later.  I’m sitting here recounting the events of a lame party on my lame blog and he’s researching computer routers… but even now when I look up at him a lot of the time he’s already looking at me (and he’s still totally gorgeous).  Thank God for lame parties.

[I was looking for some old pictures of young us to add to this story just now and came across one that is actually from another lame party in the album of a friend from college.  I wouldn't usually throw this out for the whole world to see but in this instance it's too fitting and I can't resist.]

Yes… we really were this classy.

Once Upon a Time in 2008

For whatever reason last night I was thinking back on our wedding.

The whole day was a stressful complicated mess.  The small informal wedding of our dreams got put aside in the interests of compromising and making other people happy, something that I don’t regret, life is about compromises and sometimes it’s not all about you.

It was an afternoon was stressful frustrating stressness followed by a gorgeous little ceremony followed by more stressful frustrating stressness and ending the next day in a stressful frustrating stressness brunch/present opening.  I chose to view it as a lesson in serving others, doing things that maybe weren’t my favorite things in the world for the people that we love.  (Want to know two of the things on my top ten least favorite things list?  Taking family pictures and opening gifts in front of people.  Want to know two things people in my parents generation think are necessary parts of weddings?  A bazillion extended family pictures and me opening presents in front of people.)

But in the middle of all the stuff that sucked was a beautiful 20 minutes or so on the edge of a pond on a gorgeous sunny day with the man that I love.  And that few minutes was wonderful.  The extra hoopla that had ended up being a part of the day… everything faded away and it was just the two of us in that meadow on the edge of the pond telling each other how much we loved each other.  Despite everything else those few precious minutes were perfect, and in the end that’s what really matters, right?

Rainbow Sherbert, Please

Since nothing new and exciting has been going on in my life lately I’ve decided to give you a random story from the past.  Since there’s nothing super special about it I drew you all some crappy pictures, and yes I realize I totally jacked the whole “pictures done in paint and weird story” thing from Hyperbole and a Half, but I’ll anything to keep both of my loyal readers amused.

Once upon a time, long long ago, I worked in a dirty little 50′s diner called Skoops.  The job sucked but by virtue of the fact that I knew basic math, had all my teeth, and didn’t sell meth out of the parking lot I was one of the best employees there (I’m all about low expectations).

I couldn’t decide if that picture made me look apathetic and bored or just stoned, but since all those things were true almost all the time at that juncture in my life I decided I didn’t care.

One day I’m working behind the counter, scooping out ice cream for the good people of Nowheresville Kansas when a woman came in with her adorable little girl by her side and a baby on her hip.

The little girl was just as precious as can be, in her little summer outfit and her curly blonde pigtails.  The mom coaxed the shy little girl to “Tell the nice lady what you want” while she fished around in her purse and as she reached across the counter to hand it to me suddenly everything went in slow motion.  As her arm moved out in front of her the baby got a pained look on it’s face, then it’s eyes went wide, it’s cheeks bulged out and before I could slow motion shout “Nooooooooooooo!”…

…it’s mouth opened and a shower of projectile orange baby vomit so impressive it belonged in an Exorcist movie shot out all over everything… all over the counter, all over the floor, and all over the money in the womans out stretched hand.

The woman in a horrified fluster scrambled around screaming “Oh my God oh my God oh my God!” while grabbing handfuls of napkins and wiping the baby, then the counter, then the floor, then the baby again, “Oh my God oh my God oh my God!”  Finally all flustered and confused she practically throws the vomit money at the little girl while mumbling “I’ll be right back, oh my God oh my God…” as she runs out the door with the baby.

I look down at the little girl who is completely traumatized.  She looks this way, that way, then turns her giant horrified blue eyes up at me, down at the vomit covered money, then… with terror still in her eyes she gingerly extends her hand with the dripping money towards me and says in a truly apologetic tiny voice

Later, I tried to wash the money off but no matter what I did it still reeked of vomit.  I put it under the counter not knowing what to do with it and reluctant to put it in the drawer and spread the smell to the rest of the cash but not long after some douchebag came in and said something rude to the other girl working.  Problem solved… sir, I have your change right here.