Geek Love

3 Nov

[More mushy nostalgia brought on by our Tenth Anniversary. I started this post yesterday, but it kind of derailed. So I’m reworking it in the honor of NaBloPoMo.]

A confession: I have only dated one man whom I didn’t meet online. I say online in italics, because what that means in 2007 is a very different thing from what it meant in 2002, when my friends James and Daniel said I should get a modem and sign up for this local bbs called Anarchy X because it was really cool and you chat with people from all over San Diego. Yes. I’m an old school geek who knows what a baud rate is and I remember the glorious day I bought my first Mac (in 1996) and left my crappy, DOS-based, IBM Ps1 with 2400 baud behind, and stood amazed as text pages loaded at one time (not a line-at-a-time) atthe blazingly-fast speed of 28.8. In case you’re wondering, 28.8 is less-than half as fast as the painfully-slow 56K modem you’d use for dial up these days (Wait? Dial up? People still use dial up? And they manage to keep breathing and everything?).

But this post is not about my geek cred. I’m just prone tangents, especially when I wax nostalgic.I was beginning to tell you that in my short dating life, I’ve (Should that be “I’d?” And what is up with my interior monologue thing, today?) only dated guys that I met online. The reason for this is quite simple. It’s the only place I could meet someone. I’m just not the kind of chick that guys ask out. I won’t go all moody and tell you it’s because I’m fat, or ugly, or because I spent much of my school life being the only dark-skinned face amongst a sea of white kids…I simply have never been asked out by anyone who met me in person first. And, aside from 50+-year-old men on the bus, I’ve never even been on. Guys just don’t see me that way. So I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not on the prowl.

Now, to be fair, I married young. Maybe when I hit my mid-twenties, I would have found myself wild and free, and completely alluring to every man I met. I find that doubtful, but I’m going to throw it out there as a possibility.Wow. I’m really doing a terrible job getting to the point. So here it is: I met my husband online. Ten years ago, today, we stood barefoot in front of each other and cried throughout our entire ceremony. Our wedding cost $6000 and was absolutely dreamy. There was little I would change about that day, except the DJ for our reception. He sucked.

The year that I married Garrett was the same year my parents divorced after 27-years of marriage. It takes a tremendous amount of ignorance or optimism to believe in a lifelong partnership when you’ve just watched your parent’s marriage go up in flames. But Garrett made me believe. On the surface he was so many things that I never thought I’d want: he wasn’t from a big city, he drove a muscle car and knew how to fix it, he cussed like a sailor, he was a sailor, he owned a movie about bull riding, and he wasn’t an artist nor a literature geek. What he was, and still is, is the man who tells me I’m beautiful every day. He is the one who answers questions that I don’t ask out loud. He is the part of me that I didn’t know was missing. The one who pulls me through. I love him for his strength, his compassion, his humor, and his quirks.

I’m certain it is downright nauseating to read someone go on and on about how much she loves her husband. Anything is annoying in excess. I can only tell you that marriage is hard. I don’t know how people manage it with people they’re not crazy about. I met my husband mostly through luck. It was the right bulletin board at the right time. There’s no better chance of meeting someone in cyberspace, than there is at your local bar. But when you do—when you find that one who makes you feel more like yourself, who makes you feel beautiful, smart, and desirable—forget that he doesn’t have a job you like, wear the right shoes, or know how to dance. Grab that one. You’ll thank yourself every day.

(Cross-posted at NabloPoMo.)

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