Marry Me Fox

Ian and I met five years ago, when we started working together.

We were both single, and didn't know each other very well at all.  My boyfriend at the time (now ex, obviously) was very immature, and I would wonder why I couldn't find a responsible, mature, funny guy who was thoughtful and romantic. Ian was my go-to guy for advice throughout that whole terrible relationship. Of course it all ended pretty badly, and Ian was there to cheer me up.

When You Know...You Know

Our story can be told one of two ways. The sweet and condensed version is that we met through mutual friends and the rest is history. Short and simple. But who likes short and simple?!

The extended (and much more interesting) version includes Eeyore in a hookah lounge, Facebook-stalking, and a grand scheme. It was late October 2009, and I headed downtown to have a couple drinks with a group of friends after a comedy show. In this group of friends was Danny's best friend who was dating one of my great friends, and we all ended up at a hookah lounge together. Our group grabbed a table outside and sat back to chat and enjoy a couple drinks.


Being that it was late October, apparently people were practicing for Halloween the next weekend…because in walked a guy in an Eeyore costume with a cute little pink-bowed tail.
The Eeyore-clad homeboy stood right in front of our table with that tail swingin’ just within distance of me. And just like Eeyore wants to be noticed, I was trying to get Danny to notice me, and in a moment of full (im)maturity I yanked on Eeyore’s tail.

Meant to Be

I peek out the window and note my tired reflection.

My hair, loosely ponytailed.

My eyes, darkly circled.

My face, washed bare.

Stark tree branches scrape against the house. My flickering screen mirrors the feeling.

I tuck my knees beneath me. The chair is hard, my back is sore. I lean in close- watching, waiting, ready.

Finally, I maneuver the fickle cursor to a chat room where strangers hide behind avatars that aren't their own. Realities in their backgrounds, escape at their fingertips.

I was twenty-two years old, a first year teacher by day, a graduate student by night, and a thesis writer by even later at night.

Thelma and Larry

I had just graduated from high school.   My parents let me use the car to go to a drive-in movie with my high school friends.   We had so much fun that night that we wanted to do it again. My birthday was coming up in July, so we were planning to go out and celebrate my birthday.  

Well, I had heard a rumor in the church we attended, that there was a family moving to Arizona that had 10 children. I was excited about meeting some new friends.   

On June 20th, we had a Sunday school picnic, and this new family had just arrived in Tucson, so someone invited them to come. The family arrived with the 5 out of 10 children who had moved out with them.  Our youth group spent the afternoon together and later went to a swimming party at someone’s home. One of the new family members came along. This was the man that I would someday marry.

Timing Is Everything

“Life is Long:  timing is everything, even if it takes awhile”

If my husband and I had met when we were young, we wouldn’t have paid much attention to each other. I was a goody-two-shoes Dean’s List student at an Ivy League school. At the same age, G. had hair down to his shoulders and played keyboard in a local rock band that is still well known in this town to this day.
We are both pianists: I started at the age of three, trained the Lechetiszky method by a renowned Russian pianist, Professor Basil Toutorsky who had 22 pianos in a mansion on 16th Street in Washington. G. was virtually self-taught, went to the Berkley School of Music for awhile and played rock and roll, jazz and rhythm and blues. He didn’t get interested in classical music until he was in his 20’s and then shifted his focus to the complete works of a 19th century French composer named Charles Valentin Alkan.
Alkan’s piano works are so difficult that very few pianists can play them.

This is all by way of describing how different and how similar we are at the same time. We both love pianos. We courted to Alkan’s music. And we met over a piano.

Sticking It Out Through Good Times and Bad

One question we have been asked which I find to be a little complicated to answer is “How did we meet?”  Well it goes a little something like this.  We went to school together.  The End. 

No really we did go to school together.  Even though we lived near each other we went to different middle schools but we went to the same Jr. High School.  It was there we had our first encounter, one we wouldn’t even realize till after we were together and looking at old pictures she had from school that she took and found one of me.  It just so happened I was walking across the field at school one day and someone called my name I turned to look and “snap” my picture was taken; frozen in time, never to see that picture again, until approximately 21 years later. 

Don't Be One

I was a sophomore at King's College in Wilkes-Barre PA and Nikki was a freshman at Wilkes University, which was right down the street.  I wasn't necessarily looking for a life partner that Saturday night, like most college kids I was just looking to throw back a few and have a good time.  Friends of mine lived at a place called Murder House.  It was a notorious party place and it helped that I knew all the guys that lived there.  For some reason, that night was particularly crowded so I parked myself, with my roommate behind the bar.  A pretty important spot because A) we were in charge of music and B) other people had to get us our drinks because we couldn't get out.  These circumstances led to a game of asshole starting up.  A classic college drinking game.

Everything Happens For a Reason

I was two years old when my parents bought their house.  My mom was pregnant with my little sister and we needed more space to accommodate the growing family (I would eventually become the second oldest of four girls).  The neighbors to our right were a smaller family, a mom and two boys a few years older than me.  Their house was identical on the inside, same setup, just different finishes and color schemes.  Being next door was like one of those strange dreams where you’re standing in your living room, only it’s not really your living room, but it’s supposed to be.
We all became very close very quickly and soon enough, my sisters and I could be found in the front or backyard playing bloody murder and kick the can with the neighbors every day of the week.  In the winter, we’d build snow forts and go ice-skating and my dad would be in the background taking home video which, at the time, we had NO idea how fun it would be to watch later.
My whole adolescence, I had a crush on the younger of the two brothers (he was 3 years older than me).  I would knock on his door when I knew he was home, and ask to borrow eggs or sugar and tell him I was baking cookies, just to see him. He’d hand over the eggs and always replied with “only if I get some of those cookies when you’re done!” He never did get any cookies though cause I was never actually baking.  There is also still a heart that I drew in my closet in my parents’ house that says ‘I love Scott, borrowed 2 eggs from him today, dated 1992’.

Some Enchanted Evening

On a remarkably warm fall evening in October of 2004, I decided that I could get away with one more outing in flip-flops (a dangerous choice for Minnesota weather).  It was the night of the Ike Reilly Assassination concert, and I was giddy with excitement.  Ike's band has a distinctly American, gritty eclectic sound, and I had harassed five or six good friends to come with me to the show.  The band was playing at a hole-in-the-wall bar in St. Paul, known for its great sound and interesting clientele.  More than anything, I was looking forward to seeing a band I love with friends I love.

That night, the concert did not disappoint except for the fact that they didn't arrive on stage until almost midnight.  No matter, though, by that point I was pleasantly buzzed and was singing my heart out, blissfully unaware of the presence of my future husband.  As it so happened, he was standing next to me.  During the evening, we had noticed one another across a crowded room (just like the old cliche says), and apparently, I smiled at him.  Later, he realized with disappointment that I tend to smile at everyone without realizing it, but by that point, it didn't matter anymore.  Somehow, throughout the show, we had ended up next to one another, at which point my friends magically disappeared.  I felt happy and relaxed and open to chatting with him because the show was almost over and I knew I wasn't looking to meet anyone.  So there was no pressure.  Nothing could possibly happen.

After a few pleasantries about the band and some basic chit-chat, my focal point was back to the stage where Ike was swaying drunkenly and dangerously close to the edge of the stage.  It was one of the last songs of the night, "Commie Drives a Nova" and Erik was about to make his move.  He cautiously asked me if I would like to get together sometime, to which I replied a carefree, "Sure!"  In my mind, there was no way anything would come of this.  He was very cute, but probably not my type, and I had big plans to go overseas soon.  There was no place or time for something to develop.  As the music died down and the bar began to clear out, he handed me his phone so I could input my number.  (I found out later that he was too nervous to plug in the numbers himself.)  We exchanged smiles, said good night, and went our separate ways.

Two days, later he called me for a date.  I accepted and plans were made to meet for a drink two nights later.  As the day of the date grew closer, I grew nervous.  I frantically told my friends, "Forget it.  I'm canceling!  There's no point.  I'm going to an international job fair in a few months!  I don't want to meet anyone.  He's not my type!"  

My friends vehemently argued with me.  "You are NOT canceling.  He IS your type! It's not going to hurt to have one drink with him." Finally, I relented with a bitter, "Fine. But I'm not wearing anything cute. I'm dressing down!"

I drove with apprehension to the date.  I could barely recall what he looked like, and I was positive that he seemed preppier than I would prefer.  As I approached the restaurant where I was meeting him, I saw him standing outside.  And I swooned.  I mean, literally swooned.  I didn't know a person could really swoon.  He was so handsome, and contrary to my previous beliefs, he appeared to be exactly my type. After an awkward hello, we made our way inside where we proceeded to have a date that was straight out of the movies.  We had so much to talk about and so much chemistry, that neither of us wanted the date to end.  I remember that night as I drove home that I had the sensation of falling.  And it was oh so scary and yet so wonderful at the same time.  

As we had more and more dates and our relationship grew, we saw Ike many more times together.  And at each show, we would have the sweet sensation of remembrance as we saw each other out of our peripheral vision, similar to that first night.