Gchat, 3:04pm
Me: I’m having more dreams about us getting married. I really don’t know what it all means.
Joe: Meh.
Joe: Probably just gas.
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On this day
Posted on September 2, 2010 by vmacandcheese
Dear Joe,
Today is special. It’s not our anniversary, and it’s not either of our birthdays. But 8 years ago today, you came into my life. You remember, right? It’s a story we’ve recounted to one another a grillion times.
It was a Monday, Labor Day. The season opener for USC football. We were playing Auburn. You were sitting right behind me in the stands. I was sitting next to another guy, who I had walked to the game with (gasp!). But as you know, he’s now married to someone else. Obviously, things didn’t really work out between us.
You were wearing a USC t-shirt and a baseball cap that you had placed at a jaunty angle on the side of his head. What you were thinking rocking the “homeboy” hat tilt, I’ll still never know. Sometimes, you threaten to bust out that hat and wear it around town like a G. I should probably sneak into your closet soon and hide it from you, lest you carry out such an awful plan.
You introduced yourself to me on the walk over to the stadium, then again at the game, then about half way through the first quarter, reminded me that your name was Joe. “I remember,” I told you, turning back around, somewhat uninterested. But I did remember. I remembered the next Monday, when I saw you in our 8am seminar. We waved hi to one another. Soon we were sitting next to one another. Eating lunch together. Becoming friends. Then more.
Joe, I don’t know if I really believe in fate or destiny or any of that hulabaloo, but like I’ve told you before, if there was ever anything that could convince me of it, it’s September 2, 2002. I can’t explain why the universe organized our lives in such a way so that you would be seated behind me in a stadium filled with 80,000 to 90,000 people. But I’m sure glad it did.
Thank you for being you. I’m glad you’re my friend.
Love you,
Victoria
PS – It’s pretty fitting that USC’s 2010 season opener is tonight, isn’t it?
{Image Credit: the always amazing Jose Villa. I honestly can’t wait to hire the man someday!}
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World Champions at Self Medication
Posted on July 7, 2010 by vmacandcheese
Today was a long, busy, light your hair on fire and run down the block ranting kind of day.
Nearly home from my evening commute, I almost jumped for joy when Joe called and said my favorite eight words in the English language:
“Do you want to go out to dinner?”
Let the self medication commence!
There was sushi. And riesling. And Asahi. And poke. And more sushi. Have I mentioned how much I love Sushi Bistro?
Then things got interesting.
“Do you want to order some of those chocolate mochi for dessert?” he asked.
“Ooh…” she said.
“Wait, no. We have ice cream at home right? Let’s have ice cream,” he said.
“Ooh…okay!”
“Do we have any chocolate we can put on it?” he asked.
“No. You ate it all.”
“Oh. Well, let’s go get some chocolate syrup.”
“Chocolate syrup is gross. Do you know how much shit they put in that shit?”
“Really? Even Hershey’s?”
“ESPECIALLY Hershey’s. Why buy that when I can make you delicious homemade chocolate sauce in about 2 minutes?”
“Okay. Then we should probably go to Safeway to pick up chocolate for the chocolate sauce. In fact, we should have a banana split.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had. I can make whipped cream too.”
“Whipped cream or Reddi-whip? Do you eat Reddi-whip?”
“I can, I guess.”
“Okay, that’s what we’re doing. Banana splits with the vanilla ice cream we have at home.”
“We should probably buy some chocolate ice cream just to round things out.”
“Good idea. You know, I’ve never had a banana split before.”
“What?! What kind of mutant human are you?”
“I dunno. I’ve just never had one.”
“Well just you wait, mister, because you’re gonna love it.”
“Okay. Let’s eat it on the couch so we can read Harry Potter too.”
“Okay.”
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Parlez-vous Francois?
Posted on July 3, 2010 by vmacandcheese
Even though I spent some time trying to brush up on my French this past spring, it was tougher than I anticipated in Paris. Having had no one to really practice with, I could read signs and menus and sort of say what I needed to say, but listening comprehension was almost impossible until the last few days, when my ear was beginning to tune itself to this new tongue. It’s a wonderful, blessed thing that so many Parisians speak a bit of English.
Joe on the other hand, didn’t really prepare all that much. In fact, I take that back. Why sugar coat it? The kid knew nothing about the French language, except “Sacre bleu!” which he sometimes will shout out — Tourettes like — when he roams about the house. This is all an effort to be cute and charm me (and it usually works).
I take it back again. Besides “Sacre bleu,” his sole attempt at ever speaking French before this trip took place one night in college, when we were playing a version of Pictionary with our roommates. He was trying to draw a picture of Ben, our roommate who studied in France and parles better than anyone I know. To identify Ben as Ben without writing “BEN” over the stick figure’s head, Joe drew the character with a thought bubble that read “Par Lay Voo Frances.”
Funnily enough, everyone in the room knew it was a drawing of Ben.
So we get to Paris, and I start speaking, knowing full well what I’m trying to say, and 60% of the time people could understand. The other 40% they sort of squinted their eyes and turned their head a little and said “Eh?”
I promised myself I’d never again make fun of my family for their abysmal pronunciation of Spanish (Just kidding, mom. You’re getting way better).
To be honest, I didn’t anticipate that I would be as hesitant to speak as I was, with the vocabulary I had (which was a fairly good one, all things considered). But stumbling over words was new and fresh; even when I speak Spanish, I learned enough of it back in the day that I know exactly what to say and how to pronounce it and people completely understand me.
Like most other things in life though, Joe grabbed the French language by the horns, and forged full speed ahead whether he knew what he was saying or not. This resulted in some pretty funny exchanges. (more…)
Filed under: Conversation, Joe, Travels | 1 Comment »
Goodnight Moon, Redux
Posted on May 4, 2010 by vmacandcheese
There are some evenings when, as Joe heads to bed at the very late hour of 8:30, that I’ll get in bed and talk with him until he gets sleepy. Sometimes, when he’s been out rabble rousing with his work buddies, the only way to get him to pass out is to tell him a silly “bedtime story.” I have no idea how this tradition started, other than it did, and now it’s a running joke between us.
I am fully deserving of any verbal or Internet mockery you send my way.
Usually I’ll try and get out of the storytelling, and give a recap of our evening or the previous weekend together in place of any real imaginative plot line. He’ll harumph at this, but still shut up and go to sleep and leave me to work on this website or watch reruns of The Real Housewives of New York City (priorities, duh).
Today though, after celebrating Cinco de Mayo a day early (on quatro de Mayo), I decided to throw the kid a bone and tell him a real, bonafide bedtime story.
In the spirit of the holiday, and Joe’s love for all things Cleveland sports, I told him a fanciful tale involving him, a leprechaun with a sombrero, and a magical land that included gratis taco trucks run by LeBron James. Also, all of the tacos were zero calorie and full of fiber. And in Taco Land, margaritas flowed freely out of drinking fountains, and playoffs didn’t matter anymore as all Cleveland teams — yes, Joe, even the Browns — always won everything. Joe said he liked the story alright, but that he’d told me better.
“You’ve never told me a bedtime story in your life,” I retorted.
“Yes, I have,” he replied, “There was that one, that one time. The one about the ham that ate Christmas.”
“The ham that what?”
“The ham that ate Christmas.”
“There was no such story ever, but that story needs to be written IMMEDIATELY. With illustrations. I can only imagine a lovely holiday ham, studded with cloves, mouth open, teeth gnashing, chasing after a Christmas tree.”
“And fire, it breathes fire!”
“Yes, it breathes fire.”
We giggled.
“I’m going to go work on my website now.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
* * *
Ah yes, welcome to my life. I like it a lot.
Filed under: Joe | Tagged: love, relationships | Leave a Comment »
