the gregarious homebody

Friday, September 12, 2008

Cue the John Hughes Soundtrack

The night I met the man who is now my husband he was someone else's boyfriend. No, I was not that kind of girl; in fact, according to my mom, I was exactly the opposite. In her words I was, when I was 16 years old, "Everyone's friend, nobody's lover." Yep, that was me and yes, that's the way my mom saw it. I had a ton of guy friends but had only really admired boys that way from afar.

The second time I saw him (true story), I was at his college's football game (in my hometown) with a friend. I was sitting in the stands trying to watch the game (sort of) and some guy was running up and down the stands like a lunatic, his face covered in a Kiss-like design in the college's colors.

"Who's that asshole?" I asked someone who obviously attended the college. "That's Steve ****," they said.

And, as my husband likes to remind me, I'm the one who married "that asshole."

After that we saw each other quite a lot because he was the music director at his college's radio station and I was a sort of intern there through a program my high school had. Then, when the summer came, I got my very own radio show and he was staying at school to take some classes. By then I thought of him differently. He was cute people, even with his assholey ways. Dumb, dumb, gelled sticky-uppy hair and a real attitude, but super cute and despite the (NY) attitude, really really nice.

And he had absolutely no idea how to take care of himself as far as eating well went. His idea of a "light bite" was a pack of Tasty Cakes. A "real meal" was a deep-fried eggplant parm sandwich. His "fruit" was a large lemonade. True to character, I told him I would cook a real dinner for him sometime.

That was me flirting.

SO the summer was waning and he had his sister's wedding to go to and a trip to England planned. I kind of thought that would be it, but when he got back to school, our friendship picked up where it left off. Except he called me all the time.

"He likes you," my mom told me. "I know. I like him too," said I, the non-lover. "No, he like-likes you," said my adolescent mother.

Even though I was thinking of him all the time, I think I assumed I wouldn't find a real boyfriend until I went to college and could assume a new persona: Flirty Slut Girl Who is NOBODY'S Friend. I was scared to think otherwise and risk getting hurt. I wasn't all nervous innocence, though. At one point during the Fall, Steve called me to tell me he and a friend were going to visit another friend at Union College for the weekend. This "friend" they were visiting was a girl and someone Steve thought maybe he'd like to try being "more than friends with."

"Bad idea," said I. "You certainly wouldn't want to ruin your friendship."

My mom was so proud.

So that friend remained only a friend and we picked up where we left off. We spent a LOT of time together and talked on the phone when we weren't. My mom could NOT take it.

"If you don't tell him how you feel, I will." But but BUT.... was my only answer. How did I go about doing that? Would I ruin OUR friendship? My mom's advice: just plant one on him.

So, the night before he went home for winter break, I went over to his dorm. We hung out and had fun but I felt like I was going to barf from the tension inside me. The night was coming to an end and I had to go pick my mom up at work. Steve walked me to the door, we said goodnight and see ya when you get back and I turned to walk away. Something made me turn back around and I said,"I just have to say--"

And he grabbed me and kissed me.

We've been together ever since, for almost 21 years, 15 of them (as of today), married. We've been through family BULLSHIT, births, deaths, and a lot of the other stuff that makes a life together.

He makes me INSANE sometimes (oh, don't let me count the ways), but no one loves me as much as he does, even with my foibles, one of which is not always being a "sure thing."

Sorry, honey.

He even allows me little crushes on men who I will never meet and doesn't get jealous or douchy about my girlfriends and I drooling over them or the fact that my son, if asked, will say that a certain Scotsman is his real father.

He is a serious mush. The incessant snuggling puts me OVER THE EDGE sometimes, but I would miss it if it stopped.

He lets me be me. No matter what shape I am or how greezy my hair might be.

He's the best.

So, I just want to say two things: Happy Anniversary and I love you, Ewan.

STEVE. I love you, STEVE.


The Handsome Husband said...

Happy Anniversary! I love you so much.

Thanks for putting up with all of my pyschosis all of these years.

Ewan, I mean Steve.

Jules said...


32point5 said...

I enjoyed reading this entry. Congratulations to you both!

Jill said...

Wow Jen, 21 years!! I remember when you guys met. Jill

EGE said...

That is a really sweet story -- and I like the punchy ending!

jen said...

found you at ege's. Cant wait to get home (usually dont blog at work...) and read read read your blog!!!
Woo hoo! I like new blogs!
Happy Anniversary.
jen (also)

jen said...

Wow! Welcome all new-comers. Come on back for more retarded fun anytime!

jen said...

Here is the point where I go on and on. I get excited...ask Ege.
Because I seriously was going to read all of your posts, but really? I'm too excited and I have to stop.
Here's what excited me: the effing stove. Okay? So I dont really trust flat topped stoves, but the double oven? gah.
Then I saw the label "jew stuff" and I love Jews. Really. Not even joking here.
Also? I have a nine year old boy and I love the Jonas Brothers. i mean I know your nine year old is a girl...but whatever. I think I have a crush on you. You know. In a completely benign way. Don't be alarmed. I fall in love easy, but I don't stalk. Just ask Chuck Klosterman...

jen said...

Who the HELL is CHuck Klosterman???

jen said...

Ok, well, if you were trying to make me fall OUT of love with you, that was the thing to say...

The Handsome Husband said...

Okay, so I wiki-ed this dude and no wonder I have no idea who he is. Wiki says he's a major sports writer. Sports? No my thing. I'm more of a sofa-surfer than anything (besides my tortured running sched.).

Sorry to reveal the chink in my armor....

jen said...

I really really hate that my computer ASSUMES I'm my husband when I try to make a comment and forget to change the account!! That last comment was ME, not him.

jen said...

He's a writer for sure, but a music writer more than anything. And he contributes to Esquire. And, he's my literary boyfriend. Though he doesnt know that part...
I don't know why wiki says sports...Because I wouldn't know anything about him if that were the case!!


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