Back Story

Uh oh. Did I say that I’d come back today, January 3rd? I may have forgotten something…

Our wedding anniversary is today. It’s cool. I forget it every year. I mean, how am I supposed remember what day it is when I’m busy grappling with what year it is? And then there is the lingering hangover factor. Who gets married right after New Years?

I guess we did. Seven years ago, to be exact.

Why we picked such an odd date is a long, sad story — basically my grandmother was gravely ill and we got married within two weeks of deciding to get hitched — but the story of how we met is funny and dramatic and filled with booze. So that’s what you’re going to get. If you want to read about decor today, go check one of the billions of other blogs that repost Elle Decor pics (I’ll be back to doing that myself tomorrow). Today is our anniversary, so I’m going to tell The Story.

The Story of How I Met Hunny Bunny

I went to college at a math and science school. It was not terribly productive for a girl who likes art and literature, but I can geek out over physics and astronomy, so it was all good.

The boys, however, were not good. I like my men nerdy, but our campus was populated by straight up dorks. I’m not hooking up with a dude who plays Magic (the gathering!) and Dungeons and Dragons (mostly because I outgrew D&D when I was 15, duh), and I’m not hooking up with a dude who dresses in Ren Fest gear and fights with foam swords (thanks a lot, Paul Rudd, for making foam beating cool again — you really know not what you do). In short, I also like my men hot.

Things were not looking good in the hookup department until one fateful day, when I came to call on my bff. As I stood below her balcony, declaring the time to be drinky o’clock (not that I support underage drinking), I spied a beautiful creature through the window of an adjacent apartment. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Ok, so it wasn’t exactly that easy. HB had a tawdry little piece of ass that I destroyed through manipulation and intimidation… or maybe they just broke up. Whatevs. And then I had to contend with the truth of nerdy (albeit hot) men — they ain’t got no kind of game. Our “relationship” (friends with no benefits) was moving at the speed of mud until we were invited out clubbing by a mutual friend and I drank a wee bit too much (underage drinking is wrong, kids). Then I threw up on HB and he saw me in a totally different light. I think it was nice for him to feel needed.

The next day he moved into my apartment and never left. That was over 15 years ago.

Over the years we have had many excellent adventures. We were the best damn pimp and ho you have ever seen, by god. Nevermind that we flaunted our youth and thumbed our noses in the face of mortality (promise we don’t smoke anymore). We were awesome.

Now that we have a baby, we are the happiest, tiredest people in the world (except for every other parent). But this is not a story about Ike — he gets enough coverage on this blog. This is a story about us.

I’m really not one for schmaltzy sentimentality (it was ridiculously hard to find pictures of us together), but I feel comfortable with this public declaration:

HB, I like you. A lot. Here’s to another 15 years. Hell, we might even make it to 50 if Ike doesn’t kill us first.

And now, dear readers, I hope you’ll excuse me while I go eat some expensive sushi at a fancy restaurant with my hot, nerdy husband. Back tomorrow with some decor stuff. Promise.

Happy New Year!