My life has definitely had its ups and downs.
I am a product of divorced parents -which these days seems to be the norm. The divorce was nasty. Accusations, rumors, threats – you name it- it happened. It was a mess. The aftermath was worse. When I got to college, I thought “Marriage, who needs it! I’m going to move to the big city, get a job and work my way up the corporate ladder. ” It wasn’t until August 13, 1993, that idea changed.
You see, that is the day I met him. You know the one I am talking about, right? The one that makes your knees go weak when he smiles at you. The one you stay up until 4am talking about nothing to… (and then realize you have an 8am class). The one you eat Taco Bell at the park at 2am under the stars with – just because you can…
I first met him at a party. I had recently broken up with a guy and was ready to concentrate on school and enjoy my Junior year of college. (My new found freedom was a welcome change from my previous two years, which were tied down to someone I realize now was not at all right for me.) I wasn’t the typical college party-girl. Yea, I would go out and hang with my friends, but nothing too wild. This particular night, my friend Rachel had to almost DRAG me out with her. I put on a sleeveless white shirt, black jeans (hey – there were popular then!) and poofed my curly brown locks as big as they would go and off we went.
The party was hosted at the summer home of some frat boys who I did not know. The place was packed. Sorority girls were in large supply (some for the taking if you know what I mean..) and a handful of fraternity boys were relishing the atmosphere they had created. I was not impressed. I stood around enjoying my beverage and casually asked my friend Rachel, “Rach, Who’s house is this anyway?”. “Mine” the guy behind me replied. Not knowing any of the guys at this party, (and quite frankly not being interested in any of them either), I turned around and said “Well, who the hell are you?”. Nice, huh.
These, my friends, were the first words I spoke to my now husband of almost 15 years. Yep. Who the hell are you? I still think to myself, “what the hell were you thinking?”, in addition to “how completely rude was that!”.
to be continued….
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