You have maybe noticed that I refer to my honey as “Honey”. I call him “Honey” and he calls me “Honey”. And when I refer to myself to him in the third person I call myself “your honey” as in “Your honey wants you to take the dogs out.” It’s a lot of honey. I also refer to other people’s honeys as their honeys. I don’t know how or where any of this came from. I have no explanation for all this honey business.
But so what I’m wondering today is this: if my honey and I wind up also calling my womb tenants “honey” how are we ever going to know who we are talking about?
Side side side note: I just looked at my post stats page and did you all know we can look at our blog stats going back to 1970!!!!!??! WHAT THE EFF?
Really? Do I really need to explain the anniversary on this one? Let’s just say, give me the right setting, a little take out food, a barely furnished apartment, a big brown dog, and the guy I met two nights prior in 2007…
We watched American Idol. For my very first time. I definitely mentioned that part in yesterday’s post. I couldn’t bring myself to link anything American Idol *shudder* so instead is the Haim song I like the most right now. It sort of works with the memory theme, right?
In case you are just tuning in, I’m telling the story of a very life changing week. It started with meeting a guy at a bar on a Monday, back in 2007. Not to give too much away but the timeline is a Monday to Monday string of events.
Some days were less interesting. Like Wednesday. It was a very regular day, I think. Except that it formally counts as “our first date” being that I went over to Aaron’s barely furnished apartment and we watched American Idol and I met the Moosehead. He was a hell of a dog. Before AI we took the Moose up to Alamo Square dog park. We also hit up Bar 861 on Divisadero for happy hour. I think this was all the same day. Regardless, it has become a conflated memory of a date.
What I can tell you concretely, this was the day that I wrote this to my best friend:
“I met such a cute guy last night- this is his myspace pic. And he already called and we’re watching american idol and eating dinner tonight smile emoticon hooray!”
Oh wait, so I guess I watched American Idol on Tuesday? Oops. Must change the time line.
To be cont.
Today’s bangles: yellow Hermès from my brother, Angela Cummings from my mom, and an Alaska charm bracelet of my mom’s from when she was a girl.
Remember yesterday? I told you all about how my honey and I met. It was sweet and cheesie and special and a story that will take exactly one week to tell it all, because this is the big week in my life with the most life changing anniversaries.
I think about this week in 2007 a lot. I think about each day of the week, and about how we as a species find patterns in everything, even when there are no patterns. I have a need to comb through the events to find reasons. It’s part of my life philosophy- everything is connected, each action pulls and moves and creates our lives. Maybe by looking at the pulls and changes I can better understand some of the outcomes.
This day, eight years ago, a Tuesday started abruptly. My honey, who was not yet my honey but just the guy from the bar last night was sound asleep in my bed. Don’t judge! I wasn’t as easy as this all sounds! And he is my HUSBAND now, after all, so even if I was that easy… errr. I digress!
In 2007 I lived on Oak Street where they begin car ticketing and towing each weekday at 7 a.m. sharp. My bed was pressed against the window, I loved the noise of the traffic. It was kind of a swooshing lull but I was very keenly attuned to the ticketing and towing process. So with the rattling of the metermaids and tow trucks I sat bolt upright and began punching and pushing my guy from the bar last night to move his scooter. Side note, it turned out the motorcycle helmet was actually a scooter helmet.
He yanked on some pants and ran/hopped out the door into traffic and meter maids and tow trucks barefoot. He managed to roll the scoot up onto the sidewalk in the nick of time and return to my place where we probably exchanged some awkward words, phone numbers, or something. But we solidly made plans for either that night or Wednesday night (I can’t remember now) to watch American Idol at his apartment.
So today (or tomorrow) is the anniversary of the very first time I ever watched American Idol. It turns out I’m not such a fan. Oh well. The things that stick with you, right? To answer your question, no, (thank god!) this is not one of the life changing events. This was just a first that happened to occur during a phenomenally life changing week. It was the last week of part of my life and I didn’t realize it at the time, but the little things, they all stand out now.
To be cont.
Today’s bangles: the orange Clic-clac I was wearing the night I met my honey, the blue Cape Cod watch also wore that night, and my lucky little figuinhas.
This is the week, folks. The week of important anniversaries that changed my life. Today is the day that eight years ago I… Well… Let me set the scene.
It was a Monday evening. I was working in downtown San Francisco. This was life before my darling little shop back when I was a small fry in a huge international corporation. My job was shaking hands with clients and showing them how to use a computer program (ha! Right? Like I knew how to use a computer program!!!) So really I spent most of my day going to appointments while pretending either to look busy or to know what the hell I was saying.
To relieve all this make believe I went out. A lot. Even on Monday nights. I know my mom is shaking her head right now going “but it was a school night!” It was a school night! Can you believe it? Not literally, because I wasn’t in school. Though it was still literally a school night. Blah, whatever! It was a school night, just not for me. There.
Anyway, back to setting my scene. It was a Monday, afterwork. I probably had changed my outfit. Which is not an important detail but to get the writing juices going I had to let you know. An acquaintance and I hit up some bar on Pine Street, though I had a headache so I briefly considered going home. However, she urged me to tag along with her to meet her friends at another bar, the Cellar. It was a karaoke night! “Margaret does not karaoke,” I’m certain I told her. But I was young, 27! And went anyway. Hangover on Tuesday be damned.
Once there we scooched into a sparkly vinyl booth. I leaned over the table and asked her “Are there going to be any cute single guys?” And she said yes. And guess what? There was! For narrative sake I’ll say he walked in right then. He carried a motorcycle helmet under one arm, wore this big hulking bomber jacket and glasses. Which, as we all know, is the recipe for female catnip. When I found out he was going to sing a song I told him “Margaret does not karaoke but she does dance”, and volunteered to be his back up dancer.
And guess what? That guy is my honey! Cruel man that he is he made me back up dance to the Cranberries “Ode to my Family” (you know how hard it is to dance to that song?!). So today is the 8 year anniversary of that, my first major life change: I now karaoke.
But more importantly it’s the anniversary of the day that I met my honey. I just now went into the bedroom and kissed him and said “I’ve known you for 8 years, honey!”
Picture of us (me dancing or, rather, posing for the camera, and him singing the Cranberries) from that very first night. This picture, my friends? It is a bona fide film photo. As in not digital. Woh! Blows your mind, right? And I still have this dress though Bandit ate the boots at some point. Anyway, Aaron and I were pretty hot and heavy right out of the gates; a date almost every night of the week! And I’m going to tell you all about them! Because they were full of firsts.
To be cont…
1.15.2007 bangles: my blue Hermès Cape Cod watch, and skinny Orange Clic-Clac
Today’s jewelry are all the ones from my honey:
Hermès Collier de Chien from this Christmas, Hermès Astrologie from last Christmas, Tiffany’s pearl bracelet from my 30th birthday, Jawbone UP from last birthday (35), rose gold wedding band, engagement ring, rose gold Tiffany earrings from a birthday (33?), and pink pearl necklace he won at an auction. Last is our anniversary ring with Leroy’s head, my honey adds a stone at each anniversary. The colors are for the married years.
I just realized maybe I’ve never before revealed my husband’s name. It’s Aaron, but I’ll probably continue to call him honey. Because that is how I do it!
Uhoh. Have I mentioned before how we have too many remote controls? Well, we do. And I did something wonky just now when trying to watch Brooklyn 99 on demand and now the TV is blank. 😮 All this would be fine if I only had someone else to blame for the mishap. As it stands, my honey is due home any minute and guess what he’ll first notice? Oops.
He’s got his skill set (remotes) and I’ve got mine. Mine is polishing up jewelry with just lemon and hot sauce! See that shine-y brass and copper cuff bracelet in the above photo? Five minutes B.R.C. (before remote cock-up) it was black. Then I sliced the lemon for the brass, grabbed my Tabasco for the copper, and went to work. Two minutes B.R.C. I had a beautiful brand new looking cuff from my mom. Apparently some boy gave it to her when she was twelve. Love springs eternal! Let’s just cross our fingers that it endures the Great Remote Lecture of 2015.
Where to start today? Blogging always feels like a diary entry, doesn’t it? And all you snoops keep reading my super private thoughts!
Thanks to my favorite jeweler, Isabella Hutten who mended the assortment of bracelets my mom gave me recently (mostly pieces of my Grandmother’s) I am wearing day 2 of charm bracelets.The figuinhas for luck and the big guy that is actually my mom’s from when she was a girl.
My mom was raised in a military family but her mom was Brazilian (thus me being Brazilian and all- my mom was living with her Auntie and Uncle when my parents married and birthed yours truly)… So her early life she lived everywhere and saw much of the world. This bracelet is made up of all those places. Panama, Alaska, Brazil, Virginia, Maine, Italy, France. New York State which has an accent over the e in New for some inexplicable reason.
Anyway, my honey, too, was raised in a military family. I asked him over dinner last night if he ever thought of the fact that any kids we may have and I would share a very similar childhood, while his was so very different. I realized that this was something that connects my mom and him, tho his family was Air Force and my mom’s was Army. Both are so strange and alien to me. Back to my question though, his answer was yes, he had thought about it. That was just about the full extent of his reply.
So here’s the point: you know how they say women marry men who are like their fathers? Well, I think I married my mom.
My honey is so wonderful. Not to brag, or anything. Or actually yes, to brag and very much. I don’t know how I found him but we’ve been together for 8 years now and married 3. It feels like no time at all. For a bangle crazy girl like myself (ahem see below)
(that’s approximately half of my collection 🙀)
…so despite the size of my bangle collection I wear just three rings. My engagement ring, my wedding band, and this special beautiful ring my honey designed.
Here is the original concept painting by Isabella at Hutten Jewelers
Flattened out it would look like the infinity symbol, or two rings intersecting. Our tradition is that each year he adds a stone, the little diamonds are for our years before marriage, the colored stones after marriage. With each year, and each gem add on, the two rings meld together more and more to become one. This year’s add is the oval shaped sapphire. It’s very special, and it tickles me to think of my football-loving gear-head husband caring about the design of a piece of jewelry. 💗💘💗
I mean, look at these kids!
I’m pretty lucky. Happy anniversary, honey, I love you.
Very Bangled 