Finding Love

Yes, we’ve made it to Friday. Day two of summer. These next weeks will fly; I already saw my first fall advertisement. For shoes, but of course–everyone has fall shoes on their mind.

Last night Bub had something after work and I hit the gym after dropping him off. I told a co-worker or two that my plans for the evening were really to just hit the gym. And then I cringed because I usually do the opposite of what I say and instead drink wine while watching bad TV. Hey, who said that’s not a fun night? But no, I made it to the gym. Then I picked up my husband and I freshened up and we went out for a casual drink and some apps because the summer solstice is a day we thought we wouldn’t celebrate again. No, now that we have our wedding anniversary, there’s no need, but it still bubbled up as a day to reflect and we did. Although, we had poor seating arrangements at the bar, having been sandwiched between two sets of strangers on either side of us, so it wasn’t exactly romantic and there was some shouting in order to be heard.

We celebrated the anniversary of our first date–our first night out–six years ago.

We actually met the Sunday before the solstice at a bar while my friend droned on and on about her great summer job while I had yet to land one. It was the summer before my senior year of college and there were no internships lined up (paid or unpaid) to assist me in landing a job upon graduation.

Those internships came later and this post is not about my career, so moving on, Bub spotted us across the way and invited us over for drinks with he and his friend. Me being the naive girl that I still am thought he liked my friend, that is, until we were all parting ways after a couple of hours of drinking when Bub asked me to go to a Red Sox game some time. Wow. Of course I accepted as I had immediately felt a connection and attraction to him when we were all hanging out. On our way home, we ended up behind their car. And I thought I am going to burst if I don’t get to a bathroom fast.

So, we followed their car to Bub’s place which was on the way to my place–really! And I proceeded to act like a psycho. Yes, I would have been scared of me had this been the other way around and Bub had followed ME home, but I got out of the car when Bub did, crossed the street, and yelled out: Bub! I really could use your bathroom!

Progress was made; I did make it inside where I had a choice of the upstairs or downstairs one. I started to get sketched out. Who was this guy really, and how do I know that he’s not treating this as a “I really like you and this is a way to really get to know you” situation? So I opted for the downstairs bathroom while I learned later that my friend, at this time, was freaked out thinking I was going to be assaulted.

The bathroom time turned into me hearing about Bub’s upcoming vacation to Peru with friends. The friends he shared the house with, whose beer bottles were all over, complete with pizza boxes and other random single guy stuff. He tried on this new hat he got for the trip–sort of like a park ranger, army green hat–but cuter. Then I tried it on. And thinking back to that night, I wonder that as I gazed at him all goofy in this hat for his trip camping many miles away where he would probably forget all about this night, how would this end–as a summer thing–or less–or more?

We never did make it to the Red Sox game until much later on in our courtship, but there was dinner and drinks and seeing his friend’s band on the solstice just before he left for Peru. And as they say, the rest is history. And now one month from today we’ll celebrate making our lives together official. And how Bub asked me from bent knee to be his wife.

Happy Friday.

Looking Forward and Being Pursued

So this is my last week of being twenty-six and it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. I’ll have plenty of time to think about being twenty-seven when I’m on the plane Saturday. I turn the big 2-7 on Friday the 13th and we’ll be celebrating in the North End. My family will be there and Bub, of course. Another year gone. It’s funny how nostalgic I am; I just wonder how I’ll feel looking back on everything when I’m in my forties, eighties…

So. London. I leave on Saturday afternoon and I’m not looking forward to a long layover in NY. I suppose I could do work to keep busy, or call people I haven’t talked to in a while, but something about waiting around in airports makes me feel like the flight is neverending since I’ll have been waiting to board forever. Hopefully I’ll get some sleep on the overnight flight. I have a 7am arrival and then the inevitable drop off of luggage while I wait for my room to be ready Sunday morning. Bub and I were not too happy dragging ourselves from museum to museum and sightseeing when we were exhausted. Maybe they’ll have a room set for me. I hope to get out (and shop!) while sightseeing on Sunday afternoon with an old work colleague. Then it’s the book fair and before I know it, back home.

I’m celebrating my birthday, bar-style and with friends the next Friday, so it’s like a week-long celebration even though I work in between even if it is in a foreign country.

And finally, I’m being pursued by one company for a newly open position. The last job didn’t work out and I’m OK with it, but I don’t mind being hunted down to discuss new opportunities. Of course, it’s too easy to meet with them in London (and I confirmed that they will be there), so it’s an after work date with them on Wednesday. Lately I’ve found interviewing has been more a waste of my time more than anything. Sure, it’s networking, but selling yourself is draining.