Friday, August 28, 2009

i want a house with a yard, but then i'd have to mow the damn thing

A year ago today, I met my husband. We've been married about four and a half months already, so I guess you could say that we move a little quickly.

Okay, okay: we've been at Mach 3 almost from the moment we clapped peepers on each other.

I was in Billings for Molly's wedding. I was the "non-matron" of honor, and both she and J.R. had been needling me for weeks about hooking me up with the only single guy they could think of that was invited: the video guy. J.R. had gone to school with him at Moody, and it wasn't clear whether that was a pro or a con. At one point, Molly confided that while they were having fun teasing, she honestly wasn't trying to throw me at video guy's head because she loved me too much to pull that crap. She assured me that while she thought we'd get along great and be good friends and laugh a lot, she was pretty confident that he wasn't my type.

I must admit, it was good to be let off the hook. Feeling even the slightest pressure about dating anyone was extremely uncomfortable to me, and all I could figure was that God would have to make happen what I couldn't see happening: meeting someone who wasn't threatened by the fact that I was a widow with a child. Thankfully, I'd gotten my braces off in July, so that particular hurdle was done.

Imaginary conversation between me and the random fellow who unwittingly approached me before July:
RF: Hey... so, what's your story?
A: I'm a widow with braces and a baby. The line starts HERE. (pointing at my feet)

When I first met Rob, I was at a dinner held at the home of the soon-to-be in-laws, holding my own by swearing roundly during a few story-telling times. I like to tell stories. I like to punctuate my stories with well-timed cursing that (I like to think) makes them funnier. My mother thinks I might have Tourette's, but she might just be giving me the benefit of the doubt. The first impression I had when he pulled up?

That man has a large head. I wonder why he's wearing a "CANADA" shirt and driving such a tiny car (it was a Miata).

Then a strange thing happened when I was formally introduced: I got shy. A second strange thing happened as Molly and I left: J.R. put his arm around me protectively while we were chatting with Rob, and I let him (strange because I'm more likely to punch him like a brother).

And the strangest thing of all? Well, he's in the next room on the computer, but I'll get to that later.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This post made me LOL.

Gailzee said...

Later, I think a novel is in order! Your narratives are delightful and entertaining! You could quote little Blake before each chapter! And just like the Journals of Lewis and Clark...you must write it and spell it exactly the way it was said!