As a long-time skeptic about the "usefulness" of holidays that are thrust upon us by the Marketing Gods, I try to swim against the tide. Last year, Mr. UB & I stayed in to watch a DVD, and I cooked him a meal. Since he survived the experience, we're doing it again this year. Halloo, tradition!
In that same vein of thought, I can think of no better subject to blog about, on this day that Al Capone thoughtfully stained with blood, than how he & i became He-&-I. To wit: We met in an acting workshop - one of those dreadful pay-to-play places. (In retrospect, at least I got something out of the experience. Besides a higher Amex balance and an Under-5 on Passions that was left on the cutting room floor, that is.)
We did not start to date right away. Probably because I was in a relationship at the time, and therefore only thought of him as That Nice, Funny Guy I Sit Next To In Those Painful Workshops Where I Don't Know Anyone Else. Then one night, I was out with my friend German Girl, and I bumped into him at the bar. We had one of those "I know you, but you're out of context" moments, but eventually figured out how we knew each other. Since we were at a bar in Westwood (that's UCLA territory, for non-Angelenos), he asked me if I was there to watch UCLA in the Final 4 basketball game that night. I replied that, no, I was not. Instead, I was there because my ex-boyfriend's band was about to play upstairs; if he would agree to come up & flirt with me in front of my ex, I'd happily buy him lunch. Yes, ours is the relationship that started on a dare.
Of course, being me, I was actually surprised when he showed up at our table 20 minutes later. I even remarked to German Girl as we left that I'd never seen him be such a good actor (aka "while he was pretending to be into me") in those workshops. To her credit, GG just shook her head at me & sighed.
The story goes on from there -- he didn't realize it was me when I called him, so he thought I'd blown him off; he did such a good job at his assigned task that I upgraded lunch to a steak dinner; when his best friend & roommate met me, he whispered to him, "Dear God, there's two of you!" etc. But whatever -- I'll take it. I never expected any of this to happen. I think I told him during that first dinner that I was happily resigned to growing old with cats. (Have I mentioned that I'm slow to catch on?) And I am so grateful that he came along to fuck up my paradigm, and get me to voluntarily fill my head with all of this silly wedding drivel.
So: Happy Valentine's Day, babe. I'll be over to cook after I finish work tomorrow. And yes, I'll bring the Pepto, just in case.