Sunday, March 13, 2011

The Lumberjane Meets Her Match

Just to get us warmed up here, one of the things I love most about Mike is that he can say something like, "My poops are capricious, cavalier even," and I totally understand what he means.

Yeah. We should probably get married. Or "murried" as mah southern boy likes to say.

So just hours before Mike and I left on our first date (to the movie involving drug-dealing and violence towards unfortunate children), I was possessed with the notion that I was a skilled repurposer, and that I should try to modify a men's XXL shirt I bought at DI into a shirt-dress of sorts. That would look cute, right?

Well, in theory, yes. With my skills? No. Not even close. But I sort of hacked the shirt up and sewed it again. And it was really awful. But my heart was so set on wearing a repurposed shirt that I wore it anyway, with skinny jeans and a large blue sweater. I looked like a lumberjack. Mike is correcting me now: lumberjane. Touche, my friend. Touche.

So that was the first thing I said when he came to pick me up.

Mike: "Hello! Ready to go?"
Me: "Uh so I look like a lumberjack."

It probably didn't go down exactly like that, but it was probably some equally horrific exchange. Mike took me to Thai Mango, a pretty sweet place by Cafe Rio and Olive Garden in Provo. I think I made my lumberjack comment there.

The thing with Mike, you know, he thinks fast on his feet. He said, "You don't look like a lumberjack at all. I was just thinking about how nice you looked."

10 points for Michael! And 50 gold stars!

Before we went to the movie at the International Cinema, we walked around on the newly landscaped south end of campus, near the Maesar Building. We sat for quite a while, talking about life. You know, life! Was that where we fell in love? No, but it's where I realized Mike was definitely worth a second date, and I hoped we'd get a chance to really build something together.

As an aside, a lot of people are curious about Mike's facial hair since we began dating. When I met Mike, he had mini-chops and a handle-bar mustache. Chops and stache are gone. I am surprised how often I have to defend myself; apparently many men, and some women, blame me for the mustache's demise. And somehow miss its presence.

All I can say to them is Michael can do what he wants, but there are universal repercussions for our actions. He can choose his facial hair, but not the consequences thereof. All kidding aside, Mike is a handsome man. No need for him to hide behind his burly facial hair, although I'm not opposed to letting him indulge every once in a while in the future,

See, we are beautiful now:

Saturday, March 5, 2011

A Brief History: Part One

Hilary and I always say that we've made our relationship "our way." There is no mention of "falling in love;" instead, we talk of how we have created something. It wasn't easy.
The first time I met Hilary, I was forming a circle with desks. It was just before a Creative Writing class, and Hil was the new girl, having just added the class at the drop line. I believe we were the only two in the room, so we struck up a conversation. What I remember from that chat is just a few details:
  • From the East Coast: Connecticut
  • Return Missionary: Portugal Lisboa
  • English Teaching Major
  • Young Adult Literature Fanatic
On the middle two points, we connected (honey, do you see the wordplay here?). I served in Mozambique, so I speak Portuguese. I was also an English Teaching Major, or at least had the intention of entering the major. I was preparing my application. I thought her a cool girl. That was it. I did not expect anything other than friendship.
I should go on a tangent here, and explain the crisis that was my love life. There was none. I tried to date, but I just couldn't connect with girls on dates. I was feeling the years and felt inadequate. Here I was, in the most concentrated selection of available Mormon women, and I couldn't find a girlfriend. "That's it," I thought, "I'm over it. I'm tired of trying. I'll just date for fun."
So when Hilary and I walked for a little bit after class and talked about Portuguese food, I thought it was nice. And when she emailed me to ask if I wanted to watch The Birds with her and her friends, I didn't think much about it. I just went with it, and I had a great time. Did I mention I'm bad at picking up vibes? I certainly made it difficult for the poor girl. But when she texted me the next week, informing me of an Angolan movie showing at the International Cinema, I finally picked up what she was putting down. I responded we should make a date out of it.

Thursday, March 3, 2011