I had been dating this cute kid for a couple weeks. The story of how I met him (in a parking lot) is kind of hilarious, but will have to wait for another day. Suffice it to say, we’d been to dinner and a movie a couple times. We’d been chatting online (remember, before facebook, when that was like, cool or something?) at night instead of by phone so I could do homework and watch Street Smarts without sounding like I was ignoring him part of the time. My life is one big multi-task, ok?
Epcot, March 2009
For the Christmas holiday that year, my family went to the glorious island of Aruba (which I suggest highly, especially in December, especially if you’re from Michigan or Minnesota or some other forsaken ice age), so I was out of the country until New Year’s Eve. That Boy and I made plans before I left to hang out on NYE … in my mother’s living room … like, uh badasses. He came over early. We played approximately one million games of chess. We watched the pre-stroke Dick Clark and his New Year’s Rockin’ Eve as the ball dropped us further into the new millennium. At (literally) 10 or 15 after midnight, That Boy got up to say his goodbyes and head home. I walked him to the door … which was oh … 3.76 feet away. And we stood there. Talking. Awkwardly. Uh oh, spaghetti-o, you know what comes next …
He kissed me.
Or I kissed him. I don’t honestly remember. I can’t even tell you if it was our first kiss. My brain is telling me both yes, which makes the story better, and no, because … it’s kind of unlikely we lasted that long. If you asked him, he may tell you some other crazy story. I don’t really have any idea. This apparently was not one of those profound details my brain wanted to hold on to for posterity.
I do know that we stood there, alternately talking (and totally falling for each other) and likely making out like crazy people (… gross, right?!) until he looked at his watch and it was 430 in the damn morning. !!?! Yes, really. I’m pretty sure his mom was pissed when he got home … little did she know that was the beginning of her having to deal with my crazy ass for the better part of a decade. Ha!
Tonight, New Year’s Eve 2009, marks the 10th year since I stood in my entry way, completely infatuated with That Boy. We, as if to put another nail in my ‘We’re Getting Too Old’ coffin, have no plans (not that we didn’t heartily debate the possibilities for seven or eight straight days). None. Zero. Just like that night at the beginning of this decade when we sat on my couch, ate pretzels (or something, again, not important enough to remember), and I whooped his ass at chess 188 times (this also may be a fabrication … he would probably tell you he won more than I did).
My Birthday Party, August 2009
Tonight, we’re ordering really greasy, horrible for you, disgustingly delicious pizza. My parents will be here, along with my brother and his girlfriend. We’re going to sit on the couch, maybe watch a movie or two, play a card game (since my chess playing skills have gotten a bit rusty … ok, a lot rusty through the course of the 2000s…), and be all ridiculously nostalgic and in love.
We’re lame, yes, probably, but we like it.
ps, I really wanted to do some kind of then and now picture montage in this post. The problem … there aren’t really any pictures of us together until we’d been dating nearly 7 months. Oops. And, those pictures are from an era when almost no one had a digital camera. I could scan them, sure, but I don’t exactly know where they are. And, uh, I’m a little too lazy to go looking. Alas, a 2009 retrospective for you instead. Be grateful, those are 3 of the possibly 5 total pictures of us in the last million years.