Ten to One

Dear Diary,

I never thought this would happen to me . . . .

No, it hasn't been so long since I have blogged last that I forgot how to write. Today is a huge milestone in the world of me. I have done the unthinkable. I have concurred my own crazy. I have managed to stay in a committed relationship for 10 years.

I know. I am as shocked as you are.

I am not the kind of person you would call "relationship material." First I want to be cuddled up next to you, soaking up all of you that I can. Next I am ready for bed and God help you if any portion of your body touches me while I am trying to fall asleep. At one moment I want to go on a date, maybe to a fancy restaurant. Next I need to go home because using a public bathroom to "evacuate the dance floor" is not my idea of a good time. It's like I am that song Hot and Cold by Katy Perry . . . . on repeat . . . . for eternity. #BeingAGemini

Apparently the stars aligned, fate sprung its master plan, and I cashed in all my dumb luck coupons to meet someone who is just as crazy as I am. The best part is I didn't even want to date at first. Neither of us wanted something serious. And here we are, ten years later, happily driving each other crazy because that is what a relationship is. That is of course, unless you have only been together for a couple years.

You can spot a new couple a mile away, whether it be the visual clues they give you or the things that they say. Some people find it cute. Others find it nauseating. And for those of us who have evolved from that concept, we like to sit and laugh about how we use to be and deny that we were ever like that.

Don't know what I am referring to? Are you yourself in a new relationship? Let me give you some examples:

Year One: You come home to lit candles because your partner has made you a romantic dinner. These moments usually lead to some "brown chicken brown cow."

Year Ten: You come home to lit candles because your partner has "blown up" the bathroom from all that Thai food they had. Suddenly fornication is the farthest thing from your mind.

Year One: While eating dinner, you feed your partner because there is some part of you that finds it cute and adorable.

Year Ten: While eating dinner, you feed your partner because they broke both their arms and can't do it themselves.

Year One: You spot dirty dishes in the sink your partner forgot to do and think its time for a long sit down discussion about priorities and their investment in this relationship.

Year Ten: You spot dirty dishes in the sink your partner forgot to do and you breathe deeply, reminding yourself that they took out the garbage, put the kids to bed, changed the laundry, and whatever else that just doesn't make it worth the fight.

Year One: Your friends want to have a night out, and you decline because you would rather stay home with your partner.

Year Ten: Your friends want to have a night out, and you flock to this like the salmon of San Juan Capistrano.

Year One: Your fights are usually silly fights that drag on for years to follow like: What do you mean you watched Game of Thrones without me? or YOU ATE MY LAST OREO?!?!?!?!

Year Ten: Your fights are usually silly fights that drag on for hours like: What do you mean you don't remember where you put the remote? or YES HUH KEVIN BACON WAS IN FOOTLOOSE!!!!!!!!

Year One: When out with other couples, you don't mind showing public displays of affection and tell yourself that you will never be like "that couple" who refuses to do that sort of thing, and you wonder how many years they have been together.

Year Ten: When out with other couples, you may throw out one or two public displays of affection, but they are always timed correctly, because you don't want to be "that couple" that everyone is staring at and wondering how many months they have been together.

Year One: You celebrate things like: your first kiss, first date and first time we had sex (sometimes all in the same night)

Year Ten: You celebrate things like: got to level 410 on Candy Crush, lost 20 lbs., and took the biggest shidoobie of your life (sometimes all in the same night)

To be fair, there is nothing wrong with Year One couples. The people who tease you about it have all been there before, and the malicious ones are really just being envious. And to all my friends that are reaching their relationship decade or who passed it years ago, their is one thing we have over Year One couples:

Year One: When you get those moments to look at your relationship in your mind, you feel like you have forever and sometimes that feels overwhelming and scary. Sure you may have dated a long time, but there is a lot of not knowing because you haven't been through a lot together.

Year Ten: When you get those moments to look at your relationship in your mind, you feel like you don't have nearly enough time and that thought regularly terrifies you and makes you sad. Fortunately, The trust has grown exponentially because of all the things you have been through (illnesses, family death, buying a house, huge fights, huge make-ups). And when those terrifying moments come, you simply drift your hand across the bed and touch that person you can't see yourself living without, because it may be sad losing that person, but it's always comforting knowing that they are there.

. . . . . unless of course I'm trying to sleep, then all hell breaks loose.

Thems the Breaks

I've never been a big fan of Valentine's Day. At the risk of sounding like a cliche, the concept of taking one day to tell someone that you love them seems kind of lame and rather pointless. Whatever happened to taking those random moments to show someone you care? Do we honestly need a holiday for it? Plus, Cupid has to be one of the lamest holiday mascots I've ever heard of. That's right Easter Bunny. You have one up on a winged baby looking thing that shoots heart tipped arrows at people. So take your big pink, egg hiding, booty and get down with your bad self. No Aquaman status for you.

While Jason and I don't subscribe to the Valentine's Day is For Losers Club, we still don't fully invest our time into lavishing the other with gifts every February 14th. We will surprise each other here and there with cute gifts to make the other smile, which is actually no different then any other time of the year. We are big believers in the: "I saw this and thought of you" or "I just wanted to come by and tell you I love you." Which is how our story begins.

The day was February 15th, this past Saturday. I was stuck working all weekend so my boss could have a romantic weekend he had been well over due for. Since Jason and I had no major plans for the weekend, I decided spending it earning a pay check was not the end of the world. After an epic failure of an attempt to get Jason something nice for his office on Friday, I was not in the best of moods. To cheer me up, he had left the party he was at so he could stop by and surprise me. One of those moments just to show me that he missed me. Having already had a stressful morning (our printer decided it hated me and proceeded to crash) I welcomed the visit. And . . . he brought me a green tea from Starbucks, or as I call it, that magical liquid that helps stop me from becoming The Hulk.

As it turns out, my good friend Kathy, had also decided to come visit me at the exact same time. This is one of the things I love about Kathy. We share the same birthday, and thus by that logic, almost share the same brain. Call it one of those twin things. We are Gemini's after all. As Kathy's Topher-sense (much like spidey-sense but way better) led her to me, it was like the fates had known what was about to occur.

Boston, Kathy's son, had begun doing the pee-pee dance that all kids instinctively know. My work is equipped with many things, but public bathroom is not one of them. Being the super gentlemen that he is, Jason offered to take Boston to Ono Hawaiian BBQ next door so he could "potty." This may seem like pointless information, but like any good narrator, I am painting a picture. As Kathy exited my store, purchase in hand, she watched Boston and Jason return from the bathroom.

(The following is a compilation of descriptions from all parties involved because I was inside working. This may be over dramatized, but I am not at liberty to say what is fact or an exaggeration.)

As Jason stepped onto the curb, Venti Iced Latte in hand, something grabbed a hold of his foot. It was like the earths gravitational pull had shifted into that spot, and would not allow Jason to dislodge his foot. By not being able to release said foot, his body was propelled forward by the sheer brisk pass he had previously been walking.

Kathy watched in horror as Jason's body lurched forward. His feet went up into the air as his body angled toward the sidewalk, face first. He looked like one of those cartoon characters when they slip and fall. His latte shot from his hand, exploding onto the concrete in a flood of milk and espresso, barely missing her and her two kids.

As Jason went sprawling toward the ground, he had only one thought: protect your face. Throwing his hands out in front of him, he slammed onto the concrete with tremendous force (from his brisk walking speed). Kathy watched as Jason's body laid spread out on the sidewalk, motionless and unmoving. River and Boston (her kids) cried out for him, afraid that he had met his untimely demise on the cement beneath them.

Jason began to pick himself up, and had managed to save his face, or as he calls it, his "money maker," from being smashed in. What he did not save, however, were his two wrists that he had thrown in front of him for protection.

For those of you who don't know this, Jason is severely accident prone. In the 9 years we have been together, he has:
1.) Fallen off a bar stool while trying to put up fake cobwebs for a Halloween party and "broke his ass"
2.) Dislocated his shoulder from standing on a toilet seat while trying to remove Orlando Bloom from the wall.
3.) Had his knee "fall out" from walking around Comic Con for 4 days.
4.) Dislocated and fracture his wrist from Wonder Woman falling on top of him for a group Halloween photo.

While Jason stood up, Kathy noticed the "not pleasant angle" his left wrist was portraying. Having just healed from its run in with Wonder Woman 4 months earlier, it seemed that the Great Fall of 2014 (this is what I am labeling this incident as), had made it even worse.

Worried for his life, it is Jason after all, Kathy ushered him into her Rav and raced him to the emergency room down the street. One crazy emergency room lobby, one asshole doctor who proceeded to shake Jason's wrist to determine "how injured he was," a painful round of X-Rays, and five hours later, it was determined that he had multiple fractures in both wrists and a dislocated wrist to boot.

I got home to a miserable Jason with two arms wrapped in splints.  Over the weekend, I nursed him as much as I could, and with the help of Kathy (who apparently felt guilty for Jason being hurt over taking Boston to the bathroom) we got Jason in to Orthopedics where it was determined that he will need to surgically have metal plates put in both arms. Translation, Jason can beat himself up better then Wonder Woman could.

As you reflect on your Valentine's Day, and think of what it means to you, I ask you to ponder one thing. Corinthians 13 will tell you that love is patient, kind, not jealous, and a whole mess of other crap. I know. People use it in their wedding ceremonies all the freaking time. But you wanna know what I think love is? Love is feeding your partner, because they can't lift their arms, as you watch your own food get cold. Love is getting up several times during the night to help your partner go to the bathroom, because they can't get their pants off or wipe themselves without your help. Love is stopping what you are doing to itch your partners head, help them blow their nose, or making them a water bottle necklace so they have something to drink because they can't do it themselves.

I won't lie to you. It is frustrating as hell. But these are things you accept when dating a klutz. And I do it, because there is no one else on this earth I love more.