Feeling very uninspired and uninspiring today. But luckily--I've been tagged by Lonna, and so will not be forced to write about the gray rainy autumn weather, the 4 loads of laundry I just did, or the fact that it took 3 Clorox Ready Mop pads to mop my kitchen floor--it was so filthy. Oh. I guess I just did.
Ten years ago: Ten years ago, Erik had just proposed to me. I suppose it's time to tell the brief history of our relationship.
I moved to Southern Utah the beginning of my Sophomore year in high school. The move from Central California to Utah was, obviously, tanamount to a death in my mind. So--enter blond, busty California girl into the sad, sad, sorry world of Cedar High School. My first memory of Erik is of him leaning against his locker, watching me walk down the hall, looking as though he was contemplating whether I'd taste better topped with hot fudge or caramel sauce. Damn. He was SO fine. (Still is, of course.)
So--I kept my eye on him. The first time I actually "hung out" with Erik, we were both in line at the snack bar at school. He and his very rowdy friends were in the back of the line, yelling at the lunch ladies, "Do you sell twat burgers?" I had no idea what they were saying--because I had never before hear that particuar vulgarity.
Flash forward about 6 months. I had joined the debate club--40% because he was on it, 60% because I wanted to. Erik had a steady girlfriend--not me--but we flirted fairly outrageously with eachother whenever given a chance. So-- on the bus home this one particular trip, he came and sat by me. It was dark--the bus was chilly. We climbed under a blanket together--and had a delicious make-out session that lasted some 100 miles. Sigh.
Of course, that was QUITE scandalous, and said girlfriend was less than pleased with the news.
For the next 2 years, things followed much this same pattern. He had a girlfriend. We'd fool around. I'd fool around with his friends to piss him off. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Then he graduated and I didn't hear from him for some 2 years.
Then one day he called me--out of the blue--at my work. He asked me to come over to his apartment. (Small. Smelly.) Basically--he had me at hello, (I know. Gag.) and a few months later, he asked me to marry him. We were engaged for 2 months--got married (a whole other story) and now, 10 years have passed. Damn.
Five years ago: We had just moved into our house, and I was working 4 jobs. I taught at the "Opportunity School, (11-3)" (the sad, sorry excuse for an alternative high school that existed at the time) was a class size reduction aid for a kindergarten (9:00-10:30), worked at Erik's dad's book store (3:30-6:00), taught an elementary Spanish class a couple afternoons a week. I remember it as being a very busy, but very happy time.
One year ago: Let's see. Sophie was barely 2. Erik and I were in the middle of a huge marital shit sandwich. Not a pleasant time.
Five snacks: Cookie Crisp Cereal, French fries, kettle corn, pine nuts, apples with salt and peanut butter.
Five songs I know all the words to: Son of a Preacher Man, Sweet Home Alabama, Killing Me Softly, I Want You to Want Me, The Gambler
Five things I would do with $100 million: college for Janz and Sophie, publish E's book, buy beautiful home with amazing landscaping, employ personal trainer/chef, breast reduction surgery/laser eye surgery.
Five things I would never wear: "Pro Life" t shirt, garments (Mormon underwear. Really.), a thong, stirrup pants (although I had 5 pair in middle school), jeweled sweat suit (very popular item with old ladies in Las Vegas.)
Five favorite TV shows: Northern Exposure, American Idol, Real World/Road Rules Challenge, Good Eats, Sesame Street
Five biggest joys: Erik, Sophie, Janzen, Someone else doing the dishes, time to read
Five favorite games: (I changed this one. Don't really have and "toys.") Scrabble, Dominoes, Zam Bee Zee, Karaoke Revolution, Song Burst
Five people to pass this on to: Kodi, Katie(Magic), Paul (So he doesn't feel left out--and because I'm very curious about what he was doing 5 years ago), Erik, Jen
Today's best thing about being a mom:
Puddle jumping
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
Laundry
7 comments:
it's story day! I love it. what an interesting story it is, too. delicious makeout sessions, busty blondes, and so-fine erik asking for twat burgers.
I love highschool sweetheart turned marriage stories. it's great.
there aren't enough ready mop pads in the world to clean my floor. and so how'd you get married??
I enjoyed the story too. Make out sessions are always fun to talk about. You're lucky that you went to a high school that contained a great guy. I couldn't even be friends with the guys in my high school. They were just awful: Rich, snotty bastards.
My poor husband actually got on his hands and knees a couple of weeks ago to scrub our floor because the Swiffer just wasn't doing it. How does that happen?
I so miss delicious makeout sessions, delicious makeout sessions on a bus on a school trip are even better. I remember when you guys got engaged I woke up and walked into the kitchen and mom grabbed my hand and said "Come here" all brisk, then hauled me downstairs. I just remember I didn't do it I didn't do it, I didn't do it, then we went into your room and I thought, Ok, I didn't do it, but what'd she do??? I hate to say I told you so, but I did.
Twat burgers, hahahahahaha! I have to say, Erik is one of THE funniest people I have ever met in my life. I could talk to him for hours. I'm suddenly thinking of the pussygrader story, and laughing hysterically.
Great to learn some more background. Is Erik's ex-girlfriend from the story also Janzen's mom? I'm a little confused as to where he came from.
And Erik has a book? Do tell.
Wow, you and Erik go way back. I'm convinced you're too young to have been married for 10 years already!?
Puddle jumping is so much fun!
When I first saw your "best thing," i thought it said pudding jumping. Which sounds at least as fun as puddle jumping.
I love getting the history on you and Erik. I'm always amazed when couples who've known one another for over a decade still like each other. I mean I intend to still like Todd in ten years, but you know what I mean.
When I was little and still believed in Santa Claus, I wished with all my heart to be a blonde, busty California girl for several Christmases. It never happened. That Santa Claus is an effin' crock I tell you.
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