4, 40, 400 Years More

Four years ago, I met the most amazingly fantastic person in the world.  Since then, I've had a heartbeat to listen to, a voice to sing with, a hand to hold... not simply a balance to my existence, but the beginning and end to it, as well.

We've gone through so much that a few years have simultaneously felt like decades and minutes. So, with just a few bullet points, I want to note some random little things that add up to a sum greater than anything I could've ever imagined.
  • Om ♥
  • ticklies and scratchies
  • "Buuuh-fly kisses!" -> in Wall-E / HomestarRunner's voice
  • Yelling "WAKE UP!" in conjunction with a quick slap to the chest, in order to wake the other from their qiuck-nap...while driving.
  • Sia concert ♪
  • Quick kiss under the towel
  • Changing the lyrics to ANY song to benefit us
  • Reply with an "i love you"...even while asleep
  • ...you can never say it too many times
  • EVERY delicious meal
  • Buying a house together
  • Blowing spit-bubbles in the car, like kids
  • One day, while we were at dinner, I saw you looking dreamily passed me.  We're so comfortable with each other, I asked if he was cute, and more your type or mine, since I heard a waiter's voice speaking to another table.  You replied with a face denoting that you honestly had no idea what I was talking about.
    "...the guy. the one you're making googley-eyes at."
    And you said, "What guy? The waiter? No, gross.  I was staring at their steak!"
I love you for each of these little things and for so much more...
Thank you for making me a better person.
Thank you for encouraging me to do more than I could've ever believed I could.
Thank you for being the only spark to ever light my otherwise unshakably stagnant motivation.

"...i love you and i will marry you"


sleepy scheherazade / yes, i can (try to) help you find that

Few nights ago, Brandon and I went to the Bass Hall to experience Scheherazade.  Gonna be honest... I'd been dreading it a bit, after how terrible (being honest!!!) I'd felt during our last little musical adventure.  However, it wasn't as terrible a night, this time!  But before we get into that, let's back up a bit!

~~~ *makes cliche rewind sounds*~~~

I've started my new job as a Library Assistant II with the Central Library.  It sort of took a while and I had to go through an agonizingly week-long training-thing before I could officially start work-work, but I'm finally there.  Let me tell you, it's way different than what I'm used to.  I mean, work is work, and I've no qualms with added responsibility or change in work-styles or anything like that.  It's just that... I'd worked in the same place for over 3 years and felt like a master-level circulation guy!  I knew the ins-and-outs, my bosses and I had a great relationship, and I felt like I was part of an inner sanctum of our department.  Now, I have no idea where most things are (getting better) and I'm trying my best to create a good relationship with my new bosses, while feeling like like a total n00b.

So anyway, when I got home on the night of the concert, I was tired.  It had been a bit of an overwhelming day at work, and I wasn't super excited at having to turn around and go back out the door for a night of "let's-struggle-to-stay-awake."  To make myself feel better, balance it all out in my head, AND give a middle finger to anyone who'd care to notice, I wore jeans.

As fate would have it, hubs chose seats that were insanely high and away from the crowds of diligent listen-to-the-music-whilst-I-text people, which meant that I was free to fall asleep without fear of jabs or whispers.  AWESOME.  However, I didn't need to do it as much as I thought I would.  There was this one cello concerto-thing that I kind of liked, so I stayed awake through most of it, and of course, everyone knows the main tune in Scheherazade, so I had no need to time-travel via sleep for at least the first 2 movements.

Hubs, however, hated the whole thing.  Poor guy, he was so excited, but because of that super power of his, he picked apart the music and caught all the mistakes and just plain ol' didn't have a good time.  On top of it all, he was nervous that the box we were sitting in would disintegrate, the floor would crumble away, we'd fall a gajillion feet, and plummet to our deaths while taking out half the crowd.

Silly guy didn't have a good time.

Oh well.  I'll have to teach him how to use my time-travel abilities so that the next time he's not having a good time, he can simply dream himself into the future.


an unshared love of breakfast foods / thankful

So hubs got us tickets to Mahler 5 a little bit ago, and while he was beyond excited (seriously, giddily jumping-up-and-down excited), I was...less so.

Not that I wasn't excited to go and have a date night with him or anything like that.  See, if I'm not well-versed in the story, meaning, background or history of a piece of work (be it music, ballet, concert, movie, theatrical show, etc), then I may as well listen to white noise and let it put me to sleep...because that's exactly what always happens.

Sat down with friends to see a movie I know nothing about? Fell asleep.

Got an invite to my first opera, La Bohème?? Fell asleep.

Sat next to hubs and watched him quietly and adorably conduct the lovely group from our seats....... and then I fell asleep (I'm serious, it's awesome.  He gets so into watching the performance that he has no idea that his head is nodding along and his hands have begun to direct).

But it's ok.  He's never gotten upset with me for not experiencing music in the same fashion that he does. We both understand that he has this uncanny ability to continuously dissect music into all its various parts and hear them all as if they each taking turns playing for him.  I think of it as his very own superpower.

I've always been intrigued by the small nuances that make people different from everyone else, and the hubs is no exception.  It may require me to give a little extra effort to be able to enjoy the things that he does, but he does the same for me.  A few years ago, he swore up and down that he hated cats and that he'd never try anything as disgusting as sushi.  But, time passed, and he fell in love with Camus and later Lebowski, and now he spends time and effort finding us delicious places to eat twice our weight in fishy delicacies!

And so, the point is...on this first day of the month of thanks, I'm reminded, as I am on many days, of how lucky I am to have met this ridiculous guy. We may not always want to eat the same things, or watch the same stuff, listen to the same music, or go to sleep at the same time, but I wouldn't choose anyone else with whom I may squabble over such tiny and insignificant things.  I've nothing but thanks and appreciation to give for helping me become the man I am today.



Our Origin Story

Many of our friends and family actually don't know how Brandon and I met, and so I've decided that it'd be the perfect story with which I could start off this new blog.  It's a bit cheesy and definitely creepy at times, but that's us.

So, you know all those little eHarmony commercials?  You know...the ones that show various couples hugging, giggling, and touching each other's arms while a caption reads something like "thanks, eHarmony! together since 1994!"  Well, hubs and I always joked that we'd one day make a commercial of our own, only our caption would be more along the lines of "thanks, Myspace! together since 2008!"  That's right, just before Myspace became that outdated thing that people now make jokes about, it served as the medium through which I met the hubs.

See, there was this browsing-function on it, where you could make friends with people that lived around you, and Brandon happened to be one of the ones that popped up.  Aside from his dashing good looks, his little profile-thingy was worded almost word-for-word like mine (no, I hadn't said something cliche or anything).  I sent him a friend-request, then sat back and waited.

Now entering impatient creeper-mode.

I nervously worried about two things: one, that he wouldn't accept my request, and that he'd miss out on one of the best friendships, ever; and two, that he would never see my request, as Facebook had become more prominent and Myspace was becoming the stuff of beautiful memories.

I did what any self-respecting person on a mission would do... I probably waited no more than half-an-hour, and then I searched high and low for him on the newer aforementioned means of social interaction.  Now get this...not only did I find him... his phone number was listed.


I texted him immediately, but I was honest.  I came clean about being a creepy-stalker-guy, and explained my worry in never being able to speak with him.  Not only did he understand, he found it funny.

Jackpot part deux.

It was December 23rd and he was actually on his way to the airport, to visit family in Georgia for the holiday, and we both annoyed our respective families and friends by completely ignoring them for the next few days.  We'd wake up around 6 or 7 in the morning and stay on the phone until 3...at night, at which point, we'd watch each other fall asleep mid-conversation, via skype, romantic-nerd style.

When it was finally time for him to fly back, he asked if I would mind picking him up from the airport, so that he wouldn't have to get a taxi.  I said yes, but I freaked out on the inside.  I'd never driven around the airport by myself before, and I knew it could get a little crazy.  So, I called dad and asked for instructions on how to do so, and told him that I'd be picking up a friend late that night (this leads to a hilariously small insight into my family, later - don't forget!!).

His plane arrived around midnight.  We had talked nonstop for days, we'd become friends, and so we agreed that upon our first physical meeting, we wouldn't be weird and awkward and do anything stupid like shake hands, shuffle nervously, or anything cheesy, like give gifts or flowers or anything.  We promised to start with a hug.

So he lied.  He showed up with tons of dark-chocolate, knowing that it was my utter downfall, the jerk. However, true to our word, we hugged and he held my hand, while my goofy smile lit up the freeway.  We drove to his apartment in Lewisville and decided to play Loaded Questions, the board game.  One is supposed to take these little cards with questions on them and ask them to a group of friends while pawn-like pieces travel around a colorful board.  Instead, we just took turns reading all the questions and giving our answers, in order to learn more about how the possible psycho-killer in front of us was so creepishly perfect.

Now, at this point in the story, it's very important to note that, although I officially lived with my parents in Fort Worth, I worked at the Lewisville Public Library.  I worked at that library, because I used to live in Lewisville with an ex, where I would occasionally stay, because I was going to school in Denton (Lewisville is an hour away from Fort Worth, but only 15 minutes away from Denton).

It got late, it was after 3am, and I had work in the morning.  Brandon insisted that I stay the night - it wouldn't make any sense to drive the hour to Fort Worth, sleep for a couple of hours, then make the hour-long trip back to work, which was only five minutes away from his place - because, we were adults, and we'd behave ourselves.

So I did.

I woke up that morning, terrified that I'd made some huge mistake.  What if the last few days' mysterious perfection was too good to be true?  What if he'd just made friends with me in order to get a free ride back from the airport??  What if, as I was about to walk out the door, this douche would say something stupid and cliche and mean, like "Thanks, I'll call you" ???

 Instead, he hugged me, kissed my cheek, and offered me a key.

..............A key!!!

"I never want you to stay anywhere else but here," he said. "We've gone our entire lives wishing we had met each other sooner, so let's never spend another moment alone."  And so, on December 29th, the day I met the silly oaf I now call best friend, partner, and husband, I moved in.

((After work, I drove to Fort Worth to pick up some of my stuff and I was greeted by my lovingly protective mother's despair...but not at my moving or meeting someone, mind you.  "Your father told me you were going to the airport, but he didn't know where you were going!! I thought you were going to fly off somewhere and you couldn't be bothered to call and let me know!!!"  Classic. ^_^))