Happy 7/7! This is actually a pretty happy day for us. Our nephew Cody turns 18 today and Eric's brother Scott turns 50. It's also the 19th anniversary of Eric's and my first date. Um, I can't decide if it's awesome that we've been together that long or depressing we're that old.
Oh, and it's also the 18th anniversary of me flunking my first math test at that community college I went to specifically to get Math 111 out of the way so I could get my diploma. Yep, on Cody's actual day of birth. He's apparently heard that story before because every time I bring it up, he gives me an exasperated, I know!...
Kids. They just don't appreciate history. I'd already walked through commencement ceremonies, Cody! I'd gotten graduation gifts and was looking for a job. I spent all summer working on that math class and ended up getting a B on the final. My professor thought she was a genius because of my progress (since she was pretty sure after the big flunk I was in the wrong class), but really it was that I have an engineer for a father and my brother had just taken that class so I had live-in tutors. Plus! I went to the hospital with Eric to bring you a forgotten diaper bag, kid! You can listen to my story again, I think.
Well, whatever. This is about my first date with Eric anyway. Hey, true story, at my 20th high school reunion a couple of years ago (Class of '90, baby!) the number one question we got was how we ended up together. We were like, it's been years now, people. This isn't really news. Apparently because we are both "quiet" no one could figure out how we managed to talk to each other. Well, here's a hint: You open your mouth. It's not rocket science. We find talking to one or two people at a time less overwhelming than confronting a group as a whole. That doesn't mean we don't talk at all. We're just introverts.
P.S. When I was 16, we had this after-Mass retreat thing put on by a visiting youth group. For some reason Eric gave me a hug, and I actually fit. You know? I think that might have been when I fell in love with him, truth be told.
So picture this: It's 1993, and my big hair is REALLY BIG. It's the summer before my senior year of college. I'm sitting in my room, probably listening to Tori Amos and journaling. It's nighttime. The phone rings, and then my brother Tim comes in to say I have a phone call.
I expect Mara, of course. But it's Eric.
I had to sit down for that.
We talk for a while, and then he asks me out. I had a family reunion to go to the weekend he'd picked, and I was afraid he'd think that I wasn't interested, so I volunteered that the next weekend I was free. And then he asked about Wednesday, which was even closer than Saturday, so I was all, that sounds great.
Another true story: Eric thought I had a boyfriend and he called anyway. Let's just say his sources were behind the times because the almost-boyfriend I did have wanted to have "the talk" during finals week when I was studying for my English History exam, so obviously, he had to go. Why can no one talk about things AFTER exams? Am I the only one who thinks these things through?
We decide on Jurassic Park. He picks me up and he's wearing some nice cologne and a silk shirt. Hey, those were very popular in '93, okay? So quit laughing. He was so dang cute, and I couldn't believe he was there on my doorstep, picking me up.
And it was fun, despite my nervous stomach. He was surprisingly easy to talk to. Not that you talk much during a movie, mind you.
He had to work the next morning (me too, but I wasn't worried about that), so he had me home by 9:30. I was a little depressed. That didn't seem like a good sign, even if he did say we should do it again. THEN he waited an entire week to call me back (on purpose, I later learned. BRAT) and I had entirely given up hope.
I guess it's no secret what happened next, though. My beloved is outside my window right now, working on a molding project that he's sure is going to add some character to our house. I'm trying to ignore the dust and the noise and the fact that I STILL have laundry to cope with, and a messy kitchen too boot. Abby is cleaning her bathroom and Johanna is sweeping up debris and Skilly is saying hello to me and the sun is shining because summer has finally arrived and my fingers are crossed that my favorite farm stand actually opens today like I think it might.
Ah, anniversaries. I love them so.
Tori Amos, Silent All These Years. Because that was my favorite song. Plus! I've got something to say, you know, but nothing comes. I totally get that, Tori.
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