Saturday, August 28, 2010
...has it really been eleven years since I twirled my pogo-stick body into the wee hours of the night? (pogo-stick meaning any lack of flexibility whatsoever to perform the simplest of dance moves.....I prefer to look at it as a rare talent)
...It's hard to believe that seventeen years ago I was sitting in a coffee house in Madison, WI waiting for him to meet me for our first date. I was quite the nervous soul as I waited for him to arrive, with my legs (adorned with tartan socks and brown penny loafers) anxiously twitching about, petrified about what to say when he'd walk in. I was "prepared" to impress, and let it be known that I type this with a smirk on my face, as I replaced the pennies in my penny loafers with dollar bills in a pathetic attempt to dress on the "wild" side. (I was preppy beyond belief, and he was a skateboarder, so naturally there were some insecurities on my part.....)
...I'll spare you all the awkward introductions and jump straight to the "juicy bits". After a few moments together, I completely panicked and excused myself to the back of the shop. A collect call was made, and seconds later my sister and mum were on the other line. A quick plea to my sister was given to retrieve her journal and bring it back to the phone. As I spilled out my new discoveries, she sifted through her journal and found the information that confirmed my need to call her in this frantic mode. Confused?
..Jump back a year. My sister was living in France for the summer, and when doing so, lived with a woman who could "see" things. Long before this first date, this woman professed that I was to marry someone 5 years older, Irish, wore really baggy clothes, wanted to be a professor, and tilted his hat back when focused.
..And now? Well, it turns out I was sitting across from someone who was 5 years my senior, studying to become a professor, wore insanely baggy pants (which I never quite "got"...but then again, how could I when I considered hanging my necklace over my turtleneck "hip" ?), and had a father who came to America from Ireland. And if that wasn't convincing enough, after a few weeks of dating and going to the coffee shop together to study, I knew not to disturb him when he would tilt his hat backwards to work.
(note: With generations of the British "no chin" on my side of the family, it was nice to know that our kids would have a chance to break free with a chin like his. When taking this picture, I had my mother's voice in my head shouting; "don't forget to stick that chin out"...a saying that has "saved" many a picture)
...So here we are today, eleven years later with two cheeky little monkeys to add to the mix.
He may not wear the baggy pants anymore, nor I the mighty penny loafers, but we are still just
as crazy about each other as we were back then. (and yes. they did inherit the chin. thank goodness for that....)