You know, this Friday (that would be May 9th, 2008) it will be eleven years since Hockey God and I went on our first date. I didn’t really believe in Modern Love, or magic, until I met him. Now I do.

Happy anniversary, you big hunk. I’m playing bunco that night, you’re on your own. (PS — not really. I mean, you’ll have the kids and all.)

love,

wm

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Steve, I love you a lot. Nancy

(ps I swiped this list from the cutest newlywed on the Internet, Diamond in the Rough.)

1. The bonds of matrimony are like any other bonds - they mature slowly. ~Peter De Vries

2. I love being married. It’s so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life. ~Rita Rudner

3. Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can’t sleep with the window shut, and a woman who can’t sleep with the window open. ~George Bernard Shaw

4. Newlyweds become oldyweds, and oldyweds are the reasons that families work. ~Author Unknown

5. Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years. ~Simone Signoret

6. Success in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate. ~Barnett R. Brickner

7. Never get married in the morning, because you never know who you’ll meet that night. ~Paul Hornung

8. Divorce: The past tense of marriage. ~Author Unknown

9. The sum which two married people owe to one another defies calculation. It is an infinite debt, which can only be discharged through eternity. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

10. Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight. ~Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller’s Housekeeping Hints, 1966

11. In a time when nothing is more certain than change, the commitment of two people to one another has become difficult and rare. Yet, by its scarcity, the beauty and value of this exchange have only been enhanced. ~Robert Sexton

12. English Law prohibits a man from marrying his mother-in-law. This is our idea of useless legislation. ~Author Unknown

13. Wedding rings: the world’s smallest handcuffs. ~Author Unknown

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The first fight my husband and I got into (he doesn’t remember this but I do), we were outside of Lisbon, Portugal, at the remains of an ancient Moorish castle. (It was Castela dos Mouros, not the Castle of Sao Jorge.) My future mother-in-law was with us — he took me to Europe to meet his mother! At the moment, I thought that was romantic, now I’m thinking — was he nuts? Did he not realize I was already pregnant and this would complicate matters? (more…)

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Here, dear readers — My day in real time.

Sort of.

5, 6, 7 & 8 a.m.: Sleeping. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Large Wacky Cat 2, the stripedy one, pins me in on one side; muscular husband pins me in on the other. Why does the Cat want to sleep with us? It’s so flippin’ hot. Unable to move. Sex? No. Have to sleep. Can’t open eyes. Consider a new lifestyle that involves not staying up so late at night. Hmmm. What time did we go to bed? Vaguely remember 11 o’clock news. Keep eyes closed. Sleep. (more…)

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I’m glad the sky is painted blue,
and the earth is painted green,
with such a lot of nice fresh air
all sandwiched in between.

(anon.)

Well, well, well. When there are no kids at my house, it is extremely quiet. Also I got a little lonely. But not too lonely! Hockey God took me to Sal’s for dinner (salmon for me, veggie lasagna for him). We’ve been going to Pause non-stop, and why? Because Pause kicks ass. We love Pause. But Sal’s is alright, too. Then we drove over to Vancouver, Wash., to see “Knocked Up,” the new film by the “Forty Year Old Virgin” Guy.

(That’s how I refer to him, cuz I can never remember his name. FYOVG.)

(His real name is Judd Apatow.)

Hockey God thought it needed a major re-write. I thought it was funny as hell. We were both right.

WE SLEPT IN. We had tamales, potatoes and fresh fruit salad for breakfast, and a pot of coffee. We got the kids from mom’s (they had a great time, of course), stopped by the library, went out for lunch, now Hockey God’s off to his game. They may win, they may lose, they may push the other players down. It’s hockey, it’s hard to say.

Perfect day today. Perfect weekend.

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That’s right. The kids are staying at Grandma’s house tonight. Little does she know about their latest habit — staying up until midnight, freaking each other out and screaming about monsters. “They’re in the bathroom! Behind the door.” “No, they’re not! Yes, they are!!!”

I think we’ll stay home, just for the sheer joy of not having anyone walk in on us.

While we’re watching Jeopardy!

Dang, what were you thinking?

What’s your top fave dream date? The sky’s the limit. Just tell me.

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I’d like to say that I got up earlier than usual, just so I could post, but that would be a lie. I’m running late. I haven’t had my coffee. But I know when I go to read my favorite blogs and they haven’t updated, I get grouchy. Grouchy! How lame is that, to let the Information Superhighway dictate your moods? Y’all are great writers and photographers — I need my fix of your art. Oh, yeah — you’re great moms, too. But today, that is third on the list of your accomplishments.

* We’re still planning on moving to Iowa. No job offers yet. In the meantime, maybe I should… (more…)

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Ten years ago next week — May 9th, 1997 — my husband-to-be and I went out on our first date.

I had a mangorita, he had a vodka rocks. I was so nervous I dropped a hunk of bread in my water.

When we got engaged two months later — not quite two months even, because really, why waste time? — we were in Lisbon, Portugal. He took me there to introduce me to my future mother-in-law, who was working there at the time. If you have never been to Portugal, I highly recommend you get your booty over there. They have it all — romance, the gorgeous ocean, incredible beaches, castles and nice people, great food, streetcars that go careening around hither and yon. And Portuguese, which I do not understand one word of. I barely speak English, I think that’s probably obvious by now.

So when we went out for Chinese food, and the six-foot-tall Chinese waiter came over to our table and asked me, in Portuguese, what I would like for dinner, I turned to Hockey God (who was not yet Hockey God, he was just this cool guy I’d run off with to Europe) and he ordered for us. In pretty good Portuguese. Which he had never spoken before. That, to me, was very cool. I did not drop my bread in the water this time, mainly because no bread was served.

More about Lisbon: It is sunny there, and they have funiculars. Funiculars! Also we ate a lot of ice cream.

But we had no rings! So off we went to Iowa City, Iowa, after a brief visit to Prague (for my beau) and a trip back to Portland (for me) and bought a couple of gold bands at a jeweler’s downtown. Then I met my father-in-law and stepmother-in-law for the first time. I may have dropped my bread in my water glass. We had a fun trip.

(that’s us)

Happy Anniversary, sweets. It just keeps getting easier, doesn’t it? HA!

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To those of you pooh-poohing this idea, this grand scheme to leave the moldy-wet, expensive and fast-paced Pacific Northwest and move to my husband’s hometown of Iowa City, I ask, do you even know what the Big Ten schools are?

Harry: Yeah, nothing from her, not even a smile. So I downshift into small talk, and I asked her where she went to school and she said, “Michigan State,” and this reminds me of Helen. All of a sudden I’m in the middle of this mess of an anxiety attack, my heart is beating like a wild man and I start sweating like a pig.
Sally: Helen went to Michigan State?
Harry: No she went to Northwestern, but they’re both Big Ten schools. I got so upset I had to leave the restaurant.
(from “When Harry Met Sally”)

And without further ado, they are:

* University Of Illinois
* Indiana University
* University of Iowa (which is IN IOWA CITY, thank you)
* University of Michigan
* Michigan State University
* University of Minnesota
* Northwestern University
* Ohio State University
* Penn State University
* Purdue University
* University of Wisconsin

I know. Penn State makes it eleven but everyone still says Big Ten. Midwesterners are generous that way.

Also, the naysayers are not the readers of this blog. Oh, no. All of you are asking me, “How can you put up with that rain? Yes, move. Damn. You cannot build a rainman, can you?” No, and I would not want to. I am saying, “We will move.” And we will. Because I am Through with this place. Through.

See? I blame it on Nora Ephron.

Harry: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally: And Ingrid Bergman is low maintenance?
Harry: An L.M. Definitely.
Sally: Which one am I?
Harry: You’re the worst kind. You’re high maintenance but you think you’re low maintenance.
Sally: I don’t see that.
Harry: You don’t see that? “Waiter, I’ll begin with the house salad, but I don’t want the regular dressing. I’ll have the balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side, and then the salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce on the side.” ‘On the side’ is a very big thing for you.
Sally: Well, I just want it the way I want it.
Harry: I know, high maintenance.

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I can’t wait to get into bed with my husband at night. No, really. I cannot wait.

(more…)

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