Tag Archives: Relationships

Open mouth, insert foot.

23 May

As someone who often sticks my foot in my mouth, I revel in the moments when I catch other people doing the same thing.

Imagine then, about a week ago, when Alan – looking at my thigh – said, “Do you always have these?” and traced his finger along my veins, which sit close to the surface and show through easily.

I raised an eyebrow. “Only about as long as I’ve had blood flowing through me.”

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Let’s hear it for the boy!

3 May

Alan and I spent this weekend in Richmond for his sister Barbara’s wedding. Everything ran like clockwork and it was a flawless event. Barbara was glowing and her new husband Paul was sporting a constant grin whenever I saw him. It was how a wedding SHOULD be.

The added fun was that Alan got to officiate and wrote the homily himself. He looked frighteningly official (I guess that’s the point) as he stood in front of Barbara and Paul in his tuxedo. For a minute I started to sweat, worrying that he might hear God’s calling and decide to be a man of the cloth, preaching “hellfire and brimstone” and teaching Kylie that dancing is sinful – until a certain Ren McCormack moves to town, plays chicken with a tractor and convinces the town to host a prom.

Fortunately, I only indulged in this Footloose fantasy for a split second before remembering that Alan was ordained for the day as the head of the “Church of the Naked Pants,” and therefore merely looked official but actually had a 50/50 chance of wearing breakaway stripper pants on the pulpit.

In all seriousness, Alan did a great job presiding over the event. It was one of the most personal ceremonies I’ve witnessed, and the homily perfectly communicated the wishes of a protective older brother for his sister.

Even so, I’ll admit that I’m breathing a little bit easier now that his tux has been returned. When he stops insisting that I call him Father, I’ll truly rejoice.

Prior to this, the only PDA I liked was my iPhone…

9 Apr

Tuesday night, my friend Margaret hooked Alan and me up with seats at the Washington Wizards game. Margaret’s husband is a marketing director for the Wizards, so he was able to score us some pretty incredible seats right on the floor. Even a blowout (poor Golden State Warriors) is exciting when there’s a good chance one of the players might crash into your chair. (See how mature I am? I refrained from using the phrase “taking a ball in the face.” )

Anyway, sometime in the second half (OK, according to the jumbotron it was with 7:13 remaining), Alan and I were chatting when I looked up and noticed a camera on us. “Let’s get a kiss for the Kiss Cam,” I heard the announcer urge.

A quick glance up confirmed that we were, indeed, on the screen. Despite being caught off-guard, we obliged:

As it turns out, it wasn’t as random as it seems. Margaret’s quite a conniving little planner. Not only had she scored us seats, she’d asked her husband to direct the Kiss Cam our way and had her phone out ready to snap a shot of the monitor when it happened. She’s a slick one… I can’t imagine what she’d do for a surprise party!

Because massage is an Olympic sport

15 Feb

To celebrate Valentine’s Day, last night Alan and I attended a 2.5 hour Thai massage workshop offered by an instructor at my yoga studio. We both like to rub and be rubbed, so I thought it sounded fun.

The vibe was a bit like what I suspect one experiences at a Lamaze class – couples huddled together on blankets with men exhibiting varying levels of interest and embarrassment. Almost immediately, one couple stood out.

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Mother Knows Best

22 Jan

Anyone who knows my mom knows there are two words that would never describe her: modest is one, sensitive is the other.

I could fill novels – and might – with stories of how these two anti-traits manifested throughout my childhood. In the interest of time, I’ll share a recent example that may serve as shorthand for both her sense of humor and her lack of sensitivity.

If you read my previous post, you know I can be pretty obsessed by the threat of bugs. I’m not exaggerating when I say that my parents were deluged by emails from me this week on the topic. I provided them with a blow-by-blow report of my bites, my mental process and my anticipated attack plan from the road.

My dad wrote back with advice on diagnosing the problem and links to helpful articles. My mom responded with the following one-liner:

I think you got them from Alan… mom

Awesome. Just remember that I come by it honestly.