10th Anniversary

Our 10th anniversary celebration was pretty low-key but exactly what I had wanted/hoped to have. We took the Rail Runner up to Santa Fe which was something I'd been wanting to do since the rail was extended up there. Paul isn't a fan of Santa Fe so normally, I can only get him to go once or twice a year, generally around our anniversary and my birthday. I'll definitely recommend the train to anyone who comes into town and wants to go up to Santa Fe. $7/ticket round trip and children under 10 are free. It was an easy, fun way to go. Oh! And our favorite part of the train is that as the doors are closing, the warning is a roadrunner's "meep, meep." We were laughing about the meeting in which that was pitched as an idea.

We studied out the schedule and decided to leave ABQ on the 4:20 train to Santa Fe which got us to the Santa Fe railyard about 6:00. We'd decided to eat at the Mexican food restaurant at the railyard. It's a fairly popular tourist haunt and we had about an hour wait after we put our names on the list. I'm not sure it's worth the hour wait but it was good and I've waited that long at generic restaurants.
Since we had time to wait, we opted to walk around a bit before sitting in the restaurant. The area is building up with more shopping places although most were closed by the time we were there. We noticed that there are shuttles to the Plaza and I've heard it's a 10 minute walk or so over there. So, very easy to do with visitors.

Not many shops were open although there was one cute little shop I noticed that was that had housewares and advertised Fiesta dinnerware in the window. Against Paul's better judgement, we crossed the street (it was busy but I was smart and waited until there was no traffic--the incident in London when I stepped out in front of a taxi still has him spooked. That one was coming from the wrong direction though.) And it was the cutest little shop indeed. Lots of vintage dinnerware and dinnerware made from vintage patterns, dishtowels and other kitschy kitchen items. Stuff totally up my alley. After much discussion between us and with the owner piping in his opinion on whether they should be the same color or not, I bought new Fiesta salt and pepper shakers in bright blue. It's the first pieces I own in this color which is probably my favorite shade of blue.
By this time, it had been about 40 minutes since we put our name on the waiting list so we headed back to the restaurant (again, safely crossing the street). I think we waited another 10 minutes before being seated. The hostess asked if we'd mind sitting on the patio. It was chilly but since it was out of the wind and because there were heaters out there, it was a pleasant place to sit. We both ate way too much and after we finished, we lingered for a bit, chatting, waiting for the train at 8:00, and trying to figure out how the people at the table next to knew each other since it seemed of the 9 people there, only 2 people actually were acquainted.

We walked back over to the waiting train and opted to head to the upper level for the ride back to ABQ. All in all, a very pleasant evening and a good way to celebrate our anniversary. In fact, it was pretty much a perfect fall weekend in my opinion--beautiful weather, our anniversary, time with some family, and balloons!

October 2, 1999

It's crazy to think it was 10 years ago that we got married. One bit of advice I got before the wedding was to really take it in as I made the walk down the aisle because that was truly a special moment. I don't remember who told me that but I think they were absolutely right and it's the bit of advice I pass along to brides-to-be. I remember walking up the aisle with my parents and looking at all our friends and family who had made the trip to Canadian and feeling incredibly loved at that moment. Knowing that at no other time would all these people be gathered in the same room together and realizing that Paul and I are truly blessed and lucky to have so many wonderful people in our lives who love and care about us.

We've got little plans to celebrate our 10th anniversary--we're going on the Rail Runner to Santa Fe to eat dinner on tonight and will be going to the Balloon Fiesta on Saturday with Paul's cousin and his wife and daughter. Next weekend, we're going back to Lubbock where all this fun started 14 years ago to take in the Homecoming game with Amy and her family and our friends Karen and Chris and their daughters. We talked about taking a trip, just the two of us since this will be the last one that it is just the two of us, but in some ways, being surrounded by our friends and family during this time of celebration seems more appropriate. We are still truly blessed and lucky.

So, here's to 10 years and to many more. I'm lucky to have had 3650 happiest days, give or take one or two.

Why, yes, we do realize we're dorks

Donna sent me this lolcat:


see more crazy cat pics

When Paul and I got to the back of the church as a newly-minted married couple, we did our own Wonder Twins routine, touching wedding rings and exclaiming, "Wonder Twin powers, activate! Form of a married couple! Form of Paul & Carrie!" because we're nerdy like that. Hey, if Grape Ape or Hong Kong Phooey or Captain Caveman had had some cool slogan involving rings, we would have been doing that back there. There have been many many times in the past 8 1/2 years that I've been thankful we don't have the Wonder Twin telepathic powers--it's just better that Paul wasn't reading my mind although I'm fairly certain he knew *exactly* what I was thinking.

And I'll take Jub over Gleek any day. He's enough comic relief and not nearly as troublesome as a blue space monkey might be.

We'll try not to spend it all in one place

Paul and I did a preliminary take on our taxes today--we didn't get everything entered but wanted to see about what the damage is going to be.  I'll give Paul credit for helping because he did stir once during his nap to the Daytona 500 to inquire as to what I was doing and tell me he'll get all the stock stuff together soon before going back to sleep.  That's pretty much all the help I needed today.  We will owe the federal government some money--not as much as we worried we would and not so much that we won't be doing the kitchen counters.

But the good news is that we'll be getting refund from the State of New Mexico.  An $8 refund.  I know.  You're all jealous of that $8 refund.  We plan on getting Sonic drinks.  Twice.  And not during the Happy Hour special.  Because we're crazy like that.

I'll try a random uploading a random video today.  If this works, I'll try to add a few that we've taken on the camera.  A friend sent this video to me a while back.  I giggle every time I watch it.

Day 5: Horoscope

Monday, November 5: Scorpio (Oct. 24-Nov. 21)

There's an art to staying connected with the people who are important to you. You know who your top-five priority relationships are, but it helps to list them.

I'm rarely one to check the daily horoscopes in the newspaper as most of the time it's some generic "Someone new will enter your life" or "Look for exciting things to happen" type of mumbo-jumbo. But being at a loss for today's Terribly Interesting Post, I thought I'd check the horoscopes and comment on the absurdity of it.

But this one doesn't seem to absurd. In fact, I thought this was actually rather interesting and it caused me to start thinking. Who are the top-five priority relationships in my life? Do I have to list names or can it be a generic "Grandparents" which would encompass four people? And if I really think about it, would I include them on my list? Being a dutiful granddaughter, I know I should. I know I need to cultivate these relationships and stay better connected than I do because at my age, it's a blessing to have all of my grandparents still living. But would they be on my top priority relationships list out of a sense of loyalty or because I honestly feel that way? Can I make it a Top 10 list to get everyone included that I think needs to be? Can I generically lump people together like "Grandparents" and "In-laws" and "Sisters"? Am I over-thinking this entire thing? (I think I know the answer to that last one.)

I know who the first person on my list should be and I'd put him there without question.

I was recently reading through posts I wrote last year, back when Paul and I weren't speaking and the continuation of our marriage had come into question. It was painful and I'm not sure why I kept reading. I did skip over some things I'd written because I knew how bad things were at the time and how angry I was when I wrote them (most of these weren't published, by the way). I was still in tears reading just the bits and pieces I did. We had definitely lost the "art of staying connected" and while I wasn't thinking "divorce," I was definitely thinking "how the hell can I get myself out of this situation?" I grit my teeth when I hear someone dismiss what happened last year as merely the "Seven Year Itch." Sure, it was an itch. One of those itches you might have if, while covered in chicken pox, you roll in a bed of poison ivy. This wasn't an itch--it was a full-on rash. The "Seven Year Hives" perhaps. And it could have happened to us at three years or thirteen years. It was a combination of so many things, many of which were little things that simply and quietly built up until they were big things, creating such turmoil in our lives that we were utterly ill-equipped to handle.

We're much, much better now--thanks in no small part to a very patient and kind therapist last fall who reminded me of why we liked each other so many years ago and what we needed to do to like each other again. She helped me remember what it meant to stay connected. (We opted not to go to couples counseling for a variety of reasons and while I'm sure it would have helped us, my going individually helped me heal many of the hurts I was nursing and get rid of lots of anger I had which in turn, helped our marriage. You know, because I wasn't a raging and/or crying lunatic and Paul would actually speak to me.) I can't speak for Paul but I know it's something I've been working on every day, sometimes to more success than others but I think that's true of any relationship. There are still some discussions that must be entered into delicately, making certain to use the "I statements" and to be cautious to avoid anything accusatory. But again, true of any relationship. I'm eternally grateful to the people who were put into my life, not only the therapist but some very wise and supportive friends, who helped us through a very long rough patch and gave us the skills and the knowledge to help us muddle through to our 8th anniversary, one we celebrated by actually talking and laughing and enjoying each other. And hopefully we'll still be muddling through as we celebrate anniversaries well into our golden years. Because when it comes down to it, in the end I definitely don't want to be without my top-priority relationship.

(And just in case, lucky numbers for today: 1, 5, 39, 33, and 49)

October 1995. The very beginning.

From a hesitant beginning when we wouldn't admit we liked each other, through one break-up that didn't stick, 18 months of long-distance dating, too many unnecessary fusses, some tears, one very hard time, and countless smiles, laughs, and good times, we celebrate eight years of marriage today.

Paul, on Heaven

We attended church Sunday morning with Amy, David, and my maternal grandparents. The sermon was about Heaven (scripture was Mark 12:18-27).

During one point, discussing marriage and spouses in Heaven, Paul leaned over and said, "You're going to be stuck with my jokes FOREVER."

That is definitely not my idea of Heaven.

Paul, on books

A snippet from a conversation tonight:

Me: So, this book I'm reading now (The Double Bind by Chris Bohjalian) references The Great Gatsby, which I think I read in high school or college. I remember portions but not the whole of the story, like I probably skipped chapters just to get finished with the assignment. I'll probably reread it when I finish this book.

Him: Huh. That was one of the better books I was forced to read.

There you have it. And if that isn't just an overwhelming recommendation for a book, I don't know what is.

Step Two Three

Eons ago (or at least way back in December), Paul and I were at an auction and "won" a gift certificate for six dance lessons. I've been wanting to take dance lessons for a long while but Paul was rather relunctant about it. Actually, that's an understatement. Whatever is more than relunctant--that was Paul's position on learning to dance. I love to dance; Paul, not so much. He's afraid people are going to watch him. My take on that has always been that he's neither so good or so bad that people are going to watch him. He doesn't buy it. But he likes me an awful lot and so tonight, he is going to learn to dance.

I Married a Good Guy

It's cooler today than I'd expected when I got dressed. Paul brought me a new pair of shoes this morning after I'd gotten to school because my toes were cold in the sandals I'd originally worn. And he made sure the shoes he brought me would match my outfit.

I love that boy.

How I finally snagged him

I've always said I knew I was going to marry Paul before we were even dating. I had that moment of epiphany over Labor Day Weekend, 1995. Paul was dog-sitting for a friend of his who was out of town for the long weekend. He was playing with this obnoxious little poodle and suddenly I just knew I was going to marry this boy. I was 20 years old, we weren't dating, we were barely friends. But something in me just knew.

Convincing Paul took a bit longer.

We were together at Tech for about a year until Paul finished his master's program mid-semester and moved back to Albuquerque in October 1996. I graduated in May 1997 and spent a year teaching in Texas.

I moved to Albuquerque in the summer of 1998 to start graduate school and gave us 16 months (the length of the graduate program) to figure out what we were going to do--we'd dated almost three years but we'd only spent one year in the same town. There were more than a few naysayers when I announced I was moving to NM for a boy. Most people couldn't believe I was going to do this without us being engaged and no real promise that we ever would be. Honestly, I had plenty of my own doubts but it was something I had to do.

My first year in ABQ was rough. When I look back, I'm amazed and happy Paul stuck it out with me. I was horribly homesick when I first moved here--there is more than a little animosity for Texans among many New Mexicans and during my first graduate class, I was actually greeted with an "I hate Texans" by one of my classmates. Welcome to the Land of Enchantment! After I started teaching, I was transferred to a different school after the 20-day enrollment count. Because the numbers were down at the school where I was, as the last-hired, I was sent to a school that had higher-than-predicted enrollment. It was horrid--it's a tough school to begin with and the students were understandably angry about changing teachers. I was miserable. I cried almost daily and there were times when Paul would stay at my apartment to make certain I went to work the next morning.

Of course, as the year was progressing, it was getting closer and closer to my deadline for when Paul had to propose or I moved back to Texas. I've had several friends (mostly male) tell me it was rotten to give Paul an ultimatum but I don't think it was one. I just wanted to know if I was just spinning my wheels or if we were actually heading down the aisle. I wasn't getting any younger--heck, I was already a ripe old 24. Paul was relunctant to even talk about marriage so I honestly didn't know what he was thinking. Did he want to marry me? Was he just being nice to me because I'd moved for him and life wasn't exactly rosy as a result? Did he think it was all a big mistake? I had no clue.

Then, our friend with the obnoxious poodle ratted Paul out during a visit in early March that he'd gotten his grandmother's ring from his parents. That got my hopes up a bit but after three weeks with no sign of a ring, I had pretty much given up on a proposal. I was heading to Texas for Spring Break and was going to start looking for jobs back there. Paul and I were going to spend Monday together before I was gone for the week when he decided to go in to work for the morning which turned into most of the day. By 2:00, I'd had it with waiting and decided I'd just leave early and called Paul to tell him so. He told me to please wait, he'd be coming over soon.

So I went to Target.

And the grocery store and just wasted time for a few hours, knowing full well that Paul was probably waiting at my apartment. (Yes, I know--passive-agressive.) Walking into my apartment, Paul was indeed waiting there for me with the cat. Still a little peeved with him, I opted to open junk mail in the kitchen rather than talk to him.

That's when he handed me this beautiful wooden jewelry box he'd gotten a few years earlier on a trip to San Francisco. He hadn't given it to me after that trip because he thought it needed something nice in it. Something nice like his grandmother's wedding ring.
I think he said something about how much he loved me and that he wanted to spend his life with me and would you marry me? I honestly can't remember because I was too busy shouting, "Oh, my gosh! That's a big diamond!" It wasn't the most romantic of proposals but it did the job since I said yes and we got married six months later--it took 3 1/2 years to get to a proposal, didn't see a need to wait around any more. Paul's idea was "any time after May" but I'd had my heart set on a fall wedding for a long time. October 2 it was.

My sister Amy jokes about my "used" diamond. The ring was from Paul's step-grandmother Esther. She married Paul's grandfather Ralph in the mid-70's (Paul's grandmother died of cancer when Paul was about 3). The diamonds were ones from her family--the main diamond is an Old European cut which dates back to the early 1900's--but we don't have any history before that. The style of the ring wasn't really me so I did have it reset into something much simpler and part of the platinum was incorporated into Paul's wedding band.

After we were married, my MIL told me she was really worried Paul was going to mess up and I would move back to Texas. She didn't know of the "ultimatum" I'd given Paul--she just couldn't blame me for leaving him if he didn't do something. I have to admit I was really worried about Paul messing up, too. I didn't know if Paul would actually make me live up to my word. I've been asked many times if I actually would have done it--actually left him if it hadn't proposed. I don't think I really would have had a choice.

Every day, I'm so glad I didn't have to make that decision.

At least I didn't wake him up screaming**

I think I've hit the winter doldrums. I've tried writing several times only to end up staring at the keyboard and then the screen and then the keyboard again. It's like life is just one a big ho-hum right now.

Paul made it home Wednesday evening. After picking him up at the airport and having dinner, he realized he'd forgotten a suitcase at the airport. Apparently, my amazing packing skills are no match for his. I could fit two weeks of clothes into the suitcase to send him out to CA but he couldn't figure out how to make it fit back in it to head home. Luckily, we had put in an extra bag for a just in case. He's been going non-stop since he got home with a variety of work-related stuff. Can't go in to details here but it's going to be a hairy few months relating to the business of the business. He keeps saying everything will end up being better when it's all said and done and I'm really trying to believe him. It's just so disheartening to see this man I adore under so much stress and pressure and know that there's nothing I can do to help him.

Except make cookies. And keep a steady supply of chocolate in the house. I am nothing but helpful in the sweets department.

I think his stress is rubbing off on me a bit. I've taken to conversing/randomly doing things in my sleep. Wednesday night, shortly after Paul came to bed, I decided the ceiling fan needed to be turned on. Our light switches are wired one for lights and one for the fan. For the six years we've lived in this house, Paul almost always turns on the light first and then the fan because he can't remember which switch is which. So, Wednesday night, I'm trying to turn on the ceiling fan but hit the light switch first. And even in my sleep, I managed to get a little jab in and made fun of the fact that he always does the same thing. Of course, I didn't remember turning on the ceiling fan until Paul told me about how the events transpired on Thursday morning.

Last night, I heard Paul up--he was getting a drink in the bathroom. I decided that since he was up, I should be too. I put on my glasses and walked into the bathroom, ready to start the day. Wouldn't have been so bad except that it was only 1:30 a.m. And I was still asleep. I dutifully went back to bed when he told me to do so, continuing to sleep until the alarm went off some five hours later.

**A few years ago, Paul had been gone on a week-long business trip. His first night back, while sound asleep, I rolled over and felt him in the bed beside me. It scared me and I sat upright in the bed and started screaming. He jumped out of bed, fist drawn, ready to slug an intruder. Still asleep, I looked over, saw him, and laid back down. I hadn't fully woken up so I was back to sleep in no time. Paul, however, spent the next hour or so trying to calm his racing heart and get back to sleep. The next morning, I told Paul about my "crazy dream" in which I was screaming. It was then that he informed me that it had most definitely had not been a dream and that he really didn't appreciate being woken up that way. But it is something we can laugh about now.

He'll be happy when Paul is home as well

He was my cat for two years before Paul and I were married. I am now merely around for feeding him (and that's only because I get up before Paul). Any time Paul sits down on the couch, Jubjub is up on his lap in a matter of seconds. This is especially amusing when Paul wants to read or has the laptop out. That's when it becomes a battle of wills--the cat is nothing if not persistent in his pursuit of a little bit of lap. There have been days when Paul sits with his knees pulled up to his chest, pillows surrounding him, trying to read while the cat patiently sits near by, staring at Paul knowing that before too long Paul will cave and Jub will get just what he wants. And happily for both of us, Paul will be coming home this evening, two days earlier than originally planned.

(And the computer contraption in the background is the Paulvo--Paul's homemade Tivo. It worked great; it was just big and noisy. When he first set it up, he didn't have a flat-screen monitor but a 27" behemouth on the coffee table. Paul said he knew he'd broken my spirit when all I said about it was a request to be moved slightly to the left so I could still see the TV from the couch. The monitor and the Paulvo have both recently been replaced with a more streamlined and completely silent DVR.)

While the cat's away...

Paul is currently on a two-week business trip to California. He left last Monday and will be back next Friday. Because I'm employed (and actually like my job again) and the nature of the trip (testing a chip design at the Berkeley lab), it's not conducive to me tagging along on the trip. No worries--I'm nothing if not resourceful and I've been able to find ways to entertain myself.

Things I've done so far while Paul is out of town:

1. Stay up past my bedtime with no one to remind me that I should be in bed. The cat doesn't care--he loves that I'm up at midnight, hanging out with him.

2. Ignore the alarm clock for 30 minutes with no one to remind me that I need to get up (although the cat starts meowing after about 15 minutes because he thinks he needs food). This one is a direct corollary to staying up too late but it's been nice to snuggle in those extra minutes, even when it means I'm rushing to get out the door on time.

3. Go to town cleaning closets and loading up things to take to Goodwill. This is especially nice to do when Paul isn't around because he has an unnatural attachment to some of his clothes and other treasures. It's not been easy to get him to part with just a few of his many t-shirts but he'll never miss them if he doesn't know they're gone.

4. Finally, finally clean out the garage. When we remodeled the house 18 months ago, Paul had just quit his job to start the new company so all the boxes from his home office and his work office ended up in the garage during the remodel. Most of them have managed to get carted back upstairs and now reside in the closet of the new room. Eventually, I'll convince him to sort through them to toss, keep, and organize. In the meantime, I was able to tackle the mountain of boxes (mostly empty) that Paul was storing in the garage. One of the bigger boxes was full of the treasures from his 1993 Camry. The very car we sold over three years ago. Included in this box were a pair of jeans Paul could wear if he no longer required breathing, a pair of dress shoes circa 1991, mountains of papers dating between 1996 and 2002, a variety of tapes (including, much to my amusement, a single of Tag Team's "Whoomp! There it is") and about $3.82 in assorted change.

5. Eat crackers and cheese for dinner. At 4:30.

6. Watch anything I want on television without fear of him mocking me. Hello E! and The Hills on MTV.

7. Repaint the side table in the guest room.

8. Read. Read some more. Stay up too late reading a little bit more.

Still to do:

9. Recover the dining room chairs. I'm not a huge fan of upholstered dining room chairs but when we bought the table, Paul wanted them. So I've got them as long as I've got that table. Currently, they are a very neutral (and very blah) cream fabric. Today, I purchased a twill fabric that is a light sage/khaki color. It's not going to be a huge change but I think it will look nice. I can't decide if Paul will notice immediately or in June. Probably June.

10. Clean the ceiling fans. OK, I could do this when Paul is home but I haven't and it is something that needs to be done. Especially since Paul was tossing a little Frisbee thing around for the cat and hit the ceiling fan in living room. There's now a clump hanging precariously from one of the blades.

11. (And in more confessions on my housekeeping skills...) Clean and dust the office nook. Normally, Paul tells me to leave it and he'll clean/dust. His "dusting" is typically done with a can of compressed air. Fun but not very efficient.

12. We've been invited to go skiing next weekend. I haven't been in about 10 years and it would be fun to go again. I'll have to get some ski gear, though. I guess I can add shopping for ski pants to my list of things to do as well.

In addition to my list of things to do, I've got a few meetings next week that will take up part of the evenings. Paul arrives back home midday on Friday. Aside from the fact that I have been much more productive than normal, it's almost as if he never left. And here people were worried that I'd be bored and lonely while Paul was gone.

Ten Things from my weekend

1. Airports really need some type of ventilation system. Between the cooking smells from restaurants and the masses of humanity, there is a lot of funk happening.

2. Crazy drivers follow you wherever you go. Hello? Tailgating at 70 m.p.h. in the rain? Not necessarily the wisest thing to do.

3. I like my sister Donna and I'm so glad she's willing to take time to cart me all over the Metroplex to go shopping and visiting friends.

4. As much as I think I might like another cat, I don't have the energy/inclination to handle a kitten or the fur. Perhaps an old, hairless creature would be the way to go.

5. Shopping is always more fun with someone who has similar taste to you (because then you can make fun of the crazy things you find).

6. It is always nice to see all my friends who live in D/FW and it was wonderful to see all their babies and new houses.

7. Visiting D/FW makes me realize how few friends I have in New Mexico (that sounds a little pathetic--it's not that I don't have friends here but I spent 23 years there vs. 8 years here so it just follows that I'd have more friends and that I've known the TX people longer).

8. It's a little scary how competitive I can be at an auction (live or silent--doesn't matter; I must win at any cost).

9. It always surprises me how much bad stuff I can eat before I actually get a stomachache.

10. Upon arrival back in ABQ, it is wonderful to walk out of the gate area and see my husband's face smiling back at me.

A happy ending for an old story

Fight Matadors, for Tech
There is an old Mac Davis song entitled "Texas in my Rearview Mirror" and the chorus is that he thought happiness was Lubbock, Texas, in his rearview mirror--that he just wanted to grow up and get out of that dusty little town.

Funny, because for so long, it was just where I wanted to be.

Songs of love we'll sing to thee
We went to Lubbock this weekend for the Texas Tech Homecoming game. As we were driving there, it occurred to me that the first Tech football game I attended was 15 years ago. There was a boy from my hometown who was a sophomore at Tech--whenever he'd come home, we'd go out on dates, and this being the era before e-mail and cell phones, we wrote frequent letters and made occasional phone calls in the other times. This boy invited me, along with my family, to come to Lubbock for a football game. My parents agreed (much to my surprise and delight) and we chose a weekend in October when my sister Amy was running in a cross country meet in Lubbock.

Bear our banners, far and wide
He picked me up from the cross country meet and we spent the day together in Lubbock. I was all of 16 years old (but almost 17 so I thought I was so grown-up) and just thought it was the coolest thing to be on the Tech campus with a college boy. I'm sure I was hoping that no one would realize I was just a junior in high school and trying to play it so cool. He showed me all around campus--I had a rather eye-opening experience at his dorm--and at the game, I sat in the student section with him. I remember being amazed at the crowd and the band--just taking it all in. It was just where I wanted to be and I started imagining a future at Tech and with this boy.

Ever to be our pride
We went to a game the next year as well. It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and while I don't remember the opponent, I do remember that I have never been colder. It was a wet, cold, windy day and we spent most of the first half facing one endzone because then our backs were to the wind. (We, along with most of the faithful, left at halftime.) Since I was now an ever-so-adult 18, the boy took me out dancing and then we went to a real-live college party. I can still remember telling one of the friends that I while I might be in high school, I wasn't an idiot after he told me that it was OK to eat the fruit from the trash can punch.

And then the boy broke my heart. He told me that he'd met a girl and he wanted to make it more serious--that she might just be "the one." We'd always had a very curious open relationship--both of us dated other people but they had never been "serious." It was just crushing to hear that he thought this girl was someone worth ending whatever strange little thing we had going. Not even two weeks earlier, I'd sat with him as he cried after his father's funeral. I was ready for us to be "serious." I wanted to be the one. I was sending in college applications and Tech was at the top of my list. Because of him.

Fearless champions ever be
I cried the entire four hour trip home. I decided not to go to Tech the following fall. I decided to move on.

When he came home at Christmas, he admitted that he and "the one" had broken up. Seems she just wanted to get laid. And so did he. But that wasn't much to build a relationship on. We dated a bit again after that, but he'd really hurt me. I know now I was just a child when we started dating, despite however old I felt at 16, but I'd really believed that we would have a "grown-up" relationship when I went to college. That we could be more than whatever we were when we were apart. I admit I was scheming to marry this boy (but everyone else in town was having the same thoughts as well, including him).

That one football weekend changed everything that would finally bring me to this point in my life.

Stand on heights of victory
I chose to go to North Texas in the fall (well, my mother didn't give me much choice when I'd decided I'd changed my mind about Tech in May). I met another boy who I ended up dating for two years, although that mostly became a lesson in what I *didn't* want in a relationship. I did transfer to Tech at the start of my sophomore year and I saw the boy from time to time on campus (he'd "extended" his senior year by a semester). We became friends again. We even dated a bit the summer between my sophomore and junior year. But I just couldn't do it again. Too much time had passed. Too much had changed between us.

Strive for honor, evermore
But something very good did come out of that relationship--that boy introduced me to the one I married. He and Paul had been great friends as undergrads and he introduced us because he thought we'd be friends. Before he left for graduate school in Michigan, he tried to make Paul and I promise that we wouldn't date--neither of us would because we just couldn't imagine that happening.

I made Paul call him two months later when we started dating. He wasn't thrilled (OK, he was really, really angry with me but not Paul for whatever reason) but he wasn't surprised. He was in our wedding four years later. Sadly, he committed suicide a couple of years ago due to severe depression and a wife who didn't support his efforts to get the medical help he needed to deal with it. I often wonder what would have happened if that one weekend 14 years ago had gone differently. I wouldn't change my life now, except to have that boy still be a part of it.

But from time to time, I do wonder.

Long live the Matadors!
So, here I am some 15 years later in a completely different place (literally--Albuquerque? what's up with that?) than what I'd envisioned my future would hold. I'm not nearly as self-assured or as smart at that 16-almost 17!-year-old girl. But I am much happier with who I am and what my life holds. And I also know (at least, I'm learning) that no amount of planning can ever be as wonderful as just letting the future take us where it will.

Part of the happy ending--pictures from this weekend:


Abigail and Benjamin play with the new Little People toy we brought them. Abigail kept running into her room for "more peoples!" to put on the LP ferris wheel. Benjamin turned one on September 29.
Pregame (and probably the best part of the game)--the band takes the field.
We were right next to the tunnel, which meant we were surrounded by tons of little boys wanting to see the players and maybe, just maybe, get a high-five from them.
Band+ cheerleaders+Saddle Tramps+media+players+random other people = on field pregame madness
After spotting Missouri 21 points, Tech finally scores a touchdown just before the half.
Our friends Karen and Chris with their little girl, Kelly.
Amy and David with the new foam gun for Abigail, who has a collection of foam fingers (when you wear one, you have to say "Woohoo!")
Yep, Paul was still sick and probably shouldn't have been at the game but he insisted.
The band at halftime.
Kelly gets her guns up. We said it would be a shame if in 16 years, she says she's going to A&M.
The Masked Rider roaming the sidelines.
After halftime the team runs back on the field. Tech ended up losing to Missouri 38-21. Boo.