One of my favorite bloggers wrote an extremely funny recollection on how her and the Hubs met, in honor of Valentines Day.
I felt inspired enough to relate the story of how my own Hubster and I met (and our first impressions of each other), also in honor of the big heart day.
Flash back to the year 1991, we were all still struggling out of the fashion nightmare that defined the 80's. The hold was strong, especially for certain people (ehm, Hubster).
Some of us, however, were more than ready to bypass the era of the 80's. For instance, I was the only girl at my prom that sported a pixie cut. Ghost had come out the year before starring Demi Moore and I was a huge fan (She was the shit!). Everyone else (that I can remember), still had the long/big poof/curly/sprayed/teased/frosted, "do". I felt refreshingly free and different. Though, I must admit, I did not "wow" anyone in particular, especially not my date. Douchbag, that he was... What? I'm not bitter that he spent my prom (he was older) mooning after his future wife. Humpf.
I had been single for some time, I dunno, maybe it was because I was a bitch, or perhaps it was that I was a cops daughter and a "good" girl (why are boys so terrified of cops??), most likely it was that they found me uninteresting. Who knows. Either way, I was *surprisingly* free from any commitment, when I started community college that fall.
Ahhhhhh, Fundamentals of Art 101, where one is allowed to be creative and unique! A few of my pals from high school art class were in my new class, so there was some familiarity, as well as a world of new expressions.
One of our first projects was a repetitive pattern, I cannot for the life of me remember what any of them were. I DO remember that we had to stand up, individually in front of the class and explain our piece of crap, umm, I mean "art". I was bored, let's face it, two hours of people rambling trying to impress each other with their artsy talk can be down right annoying.
**That's what I love about the Hubster, he didn't care to impress (still doesn't), he just "is".
So it's been hours now, that we've sat listening to each other drone on about our projects. When this skinny, unbelievably tall guy gets up to discuss his work. I take one look at him and dismissed him. His hair was thick, untamed and really wavy (the kind a girl would kill for. That in and of itself made me dislike him.), his face had what can only be described as a scruff to it (since hair was only sparsely coming in). He wore a thermal shirt (I know!! Again with the thermal shirts... *sigh*) under a shrunken flannel, of which the sleeves barely reached his wrists. Compound that look with too tight jeans, tied with some sort of woven string like material (think Jed Clampett on Beverly Hillbillies) and rolled. Yep, he was still wearing rolled jeans! On his feet were mangy high tops, with apparently no socks.
Man, he had a killer grin though, but he appeared smug, definitely not my type. Plus, he also was known to sport leather pants with multi colored Suede patches AND snakeskin boots complete with chains around the heel(eye roll).
In the weeks that followed we had formed definite opinions of one another. I thought he was quiet, far too smug/smart/sure of himself and had no sense of humor. He found me to be loud/obnoxious/uptight and bitchy. Imagine that?!
We steered clear of each other, except for the assigned seat thing. ugh.
Then one night, while nannying (that was my job, I was a Nanny and worked at the local root beer stand. Fun times!). I awoke from an awful dream, that the little girl I was responsible for and myself were stuck in her burning apartment. Who should come to the rescue, you ask? You got it, the annoying, fashionably challenged guy from my art class. He swooped in and saved us, my hero! Instincts are amazing things...
The next few days I was secretly crushing on him, but didn't let on. *snort*
During drawing time, when the class was supposed to be quiet, (my good friend Jeanna and I would always try to make each other laugh. We proudly and consistently annoyed the fuck outta our teacher, who was rather uptight herself), so when no one was looking (or so I thought), I threw her a tragically funny face. I crossed my eyes, stretched my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Basically, I resembled a deranged frog. I heard a snicker in the opposite direction, apprehensively I looked over and there was the annoying guy, my now crush, beet red trying his damnedest NOT to crack up during class.
Needless to say, I was mortified (incidentally, years later, this is the moment the Hubster said he fell in love with me. Told ya our sense of humor was warped).
After that, moment we lived for nothing more than to antagonize each other. Yet, neither one of us was going to bring up the dreaded "D" (date) word. Instead he bet me that I couldn't go a week without picking on him, if I lost I had to make him dinner and we'd see a movie. If I won, he was supposed to buy me a tiny toons key chain. I lost on purpose and we've been together ever sense.
To this day when people meet the Hubster they say, "He's not at all who I envisioned you with". I guess it's because he's well over 6' ft and I'm barely 5'ft, he wears small hoop earrings and seems anti social-until you get him going, then he's funny as shit. Either way, it always comes as a surprise. To me, he's completely hilarious, still has that killer grin, will always be dreamy and however fashionably challenged he may have been, he'll forever be my hero.
Happy Valentine's Day Babe!