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Thursday, August 13, 2009

she said she love you love you long time

Look how young and innocent we were. But that DENIM, for crying out loud. Matching shirt and pants? What a disaster.

You know that story about the boy who saves a snake, and then the snake bites him and is all, not my problem, see above, re: snake. "You knew what I was when you picked me up" is the take-home phrase for the audience, to teach them that creatures, people, substances, etc. can never act in a way contrary to their nature. Sharks will bite you, people will betray you, and drugs are bad, mmm-kay?

John and I were friends for four years, but like any self-respecting Mormon couple, we only dated for about six weeks before we got married. Here's a good story from the four years of friendship/unrequited love: John had gotten home from a trip to England where he chaperoned a youth soccer team, and he called me and asked if I wanted to go out for dinner. Only it was more like an hour of "Do you want to go do something? I do if you do, but if you're busy . . . Do you want to go, because we don't have to. Maybe we could go somewhere and get some food, or maybe watch a movie. Well, what should we do? I don't care, just whatever. You choose." Eventually we decided to go get some dinner, then watch a video at his house--he lived with his parents, since their house was only a few miles from the university.

Well, TWO HOURS LATER I called, wondering where he was, and so great was his anticipation for our evening together he had FALLEN ASLEEP and my call woke him up. So he finally came over to get me, and we went to I think it was Golden Corral, where you pay up front, and he turns to me and wants to know, "Uhh, am I paying for you?" I mean, what a gentleman, right? Really knows how to romance a lady. But I am a mistrustful pessimist who sees signs of pending treachery everywhere I turn, and I had anticipated his boorishness and brought my own money, which I think helped to alleviate the feeling of worthlessness his remark gave me. After our unremarkable dinner we went back to his house to watch THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI ACROSS THE 8TH DIMENSION of all things, and I sat on the couch, next to his dad, while he sat on the floor. The movie, as you know if you've seen it, sucked royally, and I was epically peeved at him about the sleeping and the dinner and the avoidance and the general air of aloof disinterest. What was his problem? I was a smart, beautiful, talented girl, and he was being a total schmuck.

So I guess we were cosmically fated to be together or whatever, or I would have never answered a call from him again. To hear him tell the story of our relationship, though, he was concerned about the five-year difference in our ages, my lack of passion about anything, and he was afraid I wasn't interested in him. BULL.

But after the four years of acquaintance and the ponderous six weeks of dating/courtship, John and I still knew very little about each other--I just knew I needed to marry that tall, pale, handsome drink of water with the crazy strong forearms. John absolutely was buying a pig in a poke, because I hadn't ever really been myself with him--I was still operating at about 65% of natural, waiting for that betrayal I knew was bound to come. What a relief for him when he found out that I do have opinions, oh BOY do I have opinions. And what a relief for me to have learned that I don't have to worry about John leading a secret double life and poisoning me when he wearies of the charade. Knock on wood.

Last night John strapped on the headlamp to go out and engage the multiple wasp nests in the goat pen--our kids had gotten numerous stings earlier in the day. He came back in after his Bataan death march and began recounting how he had killed nest after nest after horrid buzzing nest, until he had the last nest to go and only vapor left in the spray canister. So my hunter-gatherer, the one who does the dishes I dirty and pays for me to take cheesemaking classes, knocked the nest and its inhabitants to the ground and squished it all into a pulp with the wasp spray can. And as he stood there at eleven o'clock at night, gibbering with excitement and miming smashing motions, I was reminded again that even though neither of us knew what we were picking up, I made the right choice and I am thankful.

6 comments:

Choosy Beggar TIna said...

I would like to officially blame the sniffles that I got whilst reading this on the pollen which is currently circulating through the air.
In my office.
With closed loop A/C.

Layne said...

Dang! If it were a swamp cooler instead you could blame it on mold spores.

the dad said...

It's an historic day... Despite the many things you've posted that I probably should have commented on in the past, this is the first time I've left my corner of lurking--but I must clarify:

The only reason I fell asleep that night was because I was watching this terribly interesting movie on TV (don't remember what it was, but it was probably Ice Castles) and wanted to watch the whole thing before I came over. I fell asleep in the process. Hadley...

Bamamoma said...

Young and innocent maybe ... and you were gorgeous but you've aged well (like good cheese, I might add) and are better now!

Glad the wasp-wrangler won your love so that I could meet you in the process of my own snake-taming routine.

Too many mixed metaphors?

All8 said...

I think that it's a pretty safe bet, John would do more than kill wasps for his quiet, demure, non-opinionated, sweetheart. ;)

Sarah said...

Man, am I glad you two got hitched!