--okay, but now let's talk about me!
10/29/08 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyI talked to my kid about my horrible block, and threw out the idea of writing about my fav subject--me--and she thought it was a great idea.
When I first met my husband, he lived in an apartment that was sinfully tiny. It was almost literally the width of a loveseat. He could stand in the middle of the floor and touch either wall. It had a bedroom, of sorts. It held a twin bed and a nightstand and there wasn't room for anything else. When he lay on the bed, his head touched one wall and if he stretched, his feet touched the far wall. He looked gigantic in the place--a couch and a twin bed he couldn't really ever stretch out on because they were too short, a kitchen that he had to duck his head in to avoid hitting the over head light. The first time I came to his place--alone--I just couldn't get over how he lived in a me-sized apartment like that. All he had was a little black and white TV and a tiny metal crate doing duty as a bookcase stuffed with books. I liked that. When I saw that, I knew he had his priorities straight. He looked so young and kind of goofy-sweet sitting on that tiny ugly couch. He looked kind of proud of his little place. He was so serious, only nineteen and had been on his own for a year. His parents moved to Georgia but he moved back to Jersey by himself, I think that was about a girl, but he never admitted to it. I mean come on, who voluntarily moves to South Jersey?
Me I was fascinated with someone who could just walk out into the world like that and be so confident they were going to be fine, at such a young age. Most of the guys I knew angsted a lot over the future and what they wanted and how to get it and so many things but this boy just kept quiet and did it.
Now here we are thirty years later and maybe we're not rich but we're doing okay. And pretty happy most of the time. And man, you should see this guy with his kid. He's like the polar opposite of what I grew up with. He's just a really really good guy. He isss...my boyfreindt! :)
Brought to you by "My Story Sucks, And I'm Blocked".
When I first met my husband, he lived in an apartment that was sinfully tiny. It was almost literally the width of a loveseat. He could stand in the middle of the floor and touch either wall. It had a bedroom, of sorts. It held a twin bed and a nightstand and there wasn't room for anything else. When he lay on the bed, his head touched one wall and if he stretched, his feet touched the far wall. He looked gigantic in the place--a couch and a twin bed he couldn't really ever stretch out on because they were too short, a kitchen that he had to duck his head in to avoid hitting the over head light. The first time I came to his place--alone--I just couldn't get over how he lived in a me-sized apartment like that. All he had was a little black and white TV and a tiny metal crate doing duty as a bookcase stuffed with books. I liked that. When I saw that, I knew he had his priorities straight. He looked so young and kind of goofy-sweet sitting on that tiny ugly couch. He looked kind of proud of his little place. He was so serious, only nineteen and had been on his own for a year. His parents moved to Georgia but he moved back to Jersey by himself, I think that was about a girl, but he never admitted to it. I mean come on, who voluntarily moves to South Jersey?
Me I was fascinated with someone who could just walk out into the world like that and be so confident they were going to be fine, at such a young age. Most of the guys I knew angsted a lot over the future and what they wanted and how to get it and so many things but this boy just kept quiet and did it.
Now here we are thirty years later and maybe we're not rich but we're doing okay. And pretty happy most of the time. And man, you should see this guy with his kid. He's like the polar opposite of what I grew up with. He's just a really really good guy. He isss...my boyfreindt! :)
Brought to you by "My Story Sucks, And I'm Blocked".
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