Making up musicals in our kitchen-ness.
But I must go back a bit.
When I met the rockstar, he looked something like this:
We met at my house, on a roof-top that my roommates and I shared with several neighbors.
He invited me to his solo show.
...promised their would be singing and guitar strumming.
I didn't go to said show.
I wasn't 21 yet.
Bars didn't like me.
He and his pals left the roof top that night.
We met again at my house, 6 months later (in those days, my roommies and I always had people coming and going, which can also be interpreted as parties. Don't judge me and my younger self).
He called me Heather.
I corrected him.
He and his pals left (NOT because I corrected him).
We met AGAIN, 3 months later at a bar (hooray for the age of 21).
He was/is a funny dancer.
He and his pals left (they left a lot).
This time though, he came back.
He walked up to me and said, "We keep running into each other. Maybe we should hang out sometime. Can.......I have your number?"
I said yes.
By this time, his hair was a little longer and may or may not have had pink in it.
Two days later he called me (yes ladies, he waited the appropriate two days to call the girl).
I didn't answer.
I remember his voicemail being cute (rockstarishly cute...and yes, I just made up a word). He left me his phone number to return his call and repeated his number the sllllloooooooooowest I have EVER heard anyone leave a number in a message. I think this was done so I couldn't use the "not calling" excuse: I couldn't catch your number - OR - You said your number way too fast.
I called him a week later.
I realized it was a week later and thought, "Oh man! I really need to call that guy or he's going to think I'm a jerk."
In any case, I called him a week later.
Oh yes - and the first time I called him on the phone, he just so happened to be in the recording studio, with his new band.
Recording an alllllllbum. Ooooooooo.
So VERY cool.
SUCH a rockstar he was.
(he LOVES that part of the story - which is why I embellished it with the Ooooooo's and spicing up the word album).
We saw each other the very next day.
And the day after.
And probably the day after.
He introduced me to his band.
He played their allllllllllbum for me.
I said I liked it.
He called me pretty.
I probably blushed.
He asked if he could kiss me good night.
I said no.
One night, as we sat in his living room, he serenaded me with singing and guitar strumming (MY favorite part of the story).
I was hooked, but I didn't let on.
A couple weeks later, he told me he had written a new song - wanted me to hear it.
Again - the singing and guitar strumming, but this time it was slightly different.
He was nervous.
And the song had my NAME in it (no wait, THIS might be my favorite part of the story).
I was TOTALLY hooked...and maybe I let on a little.
He asked if he could kiss me goodnight.
This time I said yes.
I called my mummy and told her all about this cute rockstar boy I had met.
I may or may not have emailed her the first picture in this post.
She thought he was handsome.
She came to visit.
And took this picture:
My ma said, "Can I take a picture of the two of you together?"
I remember groaning, "Awww mom!" and whispering to the rockstar, "Why don't we just kiss instead of looking at the camera."
I'm not sure why I told him that.
And he didn't object.
And our little adventure began.
and made out
and ate food
and dated some more...
and made out again, I'm sure...
and got engaged.
It was perfect.
We wanted a small and simple wedding.
We didn't want to be in debt.
We just wanted to get married and live happily ever after.
So, my rockstar decided to design the wedding invitations and we made them ourselves:
Nice touch with the cute little hearts, rockstar. Nice touch.
And the day came:
Man and wife.
And so far, it has been quite an adventure.
We've lived pay check to pay check.
We've moved across the country.
We've loved and lost.
We've gained and rejoiced.
We've laughed and cried.
And we've done it together.
My life has been
filled with WAY more laughter
My life has been changed...
...since he's been in it.
6 years - going on 60.
Oh, happy day.
I think I'm in love.