When Bossy Met Snappy…

…he was really scared.

Just kidding. He was only mostly scared – not all the way scared. There's a distinct difference between mostly and all-the-way, right college freshmen? ;)

I met Bossyboots a very, verrrrrry long time ago, back when we were chumps at a local (yet national!) theater here in Chicago. I was the fresh out of college Stage Management intern; he was the seasoned lighting tech. He showed me around the theater, swooped me off my feet, and we lived happily ever after.

OK that's a lie, too.

Bossyboots tells me that he spent our summer together with a raging crush on me. However, he neglected to clue me in to this fact. Consequently, there was a distinct lack of smooching. He says he even took me out on a date… a fact he neglected to explain. We went to a free show (as friends, I thought!), hung out on the free pier, and went to our respective homes sans romantic interlude. I don't think I am the only woman out there that assumes that if the guy offers to pay for you, that means it's a date – if he doesn't = not a date. Of course, the reality that our evening consisted of completely free activities requiring zero dollars has no bearing on this assumption. Nor the fact that I am generally clueless about these sorts of things. I was raised in a conservative home – I didn't go on a date 'til I was 18. Boys scared me; what can I say?

Anyway, the end of summer 2001 arrived. Bossyboots and I both moved on to greener career pastures.

Then, in 2008, I was walking the halls of my current employer to grab coffee from the dadgum [it's broken again] coffeemaker, and who should I spy? A tall, blonde drink of water, that's who. Out of all the companies in Chicago, Bossyboots decided to move on into mine!

We were both dating other people [while I was writing for a little site called (cough) WeddingBee], so nothing inappropriate was going to happen. Polite hellos were exchanged, but that's about it. However, the moment my Facebook status went "single" after I called off my wedding… that man was hitting me up on Facebook every week. Nothing too forward, but he was definitely making his presence known. He says that his heart dropped when he saw that I was engaged, so he "wasn't dropping the ball again", now that we had a second chance.

I wasn't ready to date right away, obviously, but when July hit, I let Bossyboots know it would be okay if he – you know – wanted to go out for a milkshake. Which he did. And we subsequently stayed out until 4:30am.

Date #2 – Out until 4a

Date #3 – Out until 6:30a

Date #4 – Out until midnight (a girl's gotta get SOME sleep – I'm not 22 anymore)

For the record, these were all PG-rated dates. P to the G, Mother!

At that point, we were both smitten, and the rest is the beginning of a great story. I still find him ultra-smoochable, and we still stay out until the wee hours, on occasion. Lack of sleep keeps you young… I read that in a book somewhere.

My Jimmy Choos Better Pack a Suitcase…

…Because Snapdragon and Bossyboots have a wedding date!

We had just a few hoops to jump through, namely, choosing a state in which to declare our undying love. "Undying", people, that's how serious our love is.

I'm nothing if not both acerbic and dramatic. It gets annoying – ask Bossyboots.

We had two realistic choices when it came to wedding locations: Option A) Chicago or Option B) Dallas/Fort Worth. Deep dish pizza or 8-hour brisket? Bell's or Shiner? Sauerkraut or habaneros? Bears or Cowboys?* 773 or 214? It's a tough decision, believe you me, and we went through the wringer.

Bossyboots grew up in Chicago, and though I'm a Texan transplant, I've lived "up north" for the last fourteen years. (That's fourteen. Motherloving. Winters. Thank you, Winter in Chicago.) Most of Bossyboots' family and friends live here, and most of my closest friend are Chicagoans. However, my family all lives down in Texas. My really, really big family. And since most of them are disabled… getting my family on a plane is not happening. You hear that? Unequivocally not happening. One of my sisters is the bionic woman, with a steel backbone. Etc etc. It's not happening – not by train, not by plane, nor by automobile.

So, then Bossyboots and I were faced with a decision – we could hold the wedding up here in Chicago, where his family and most of our friends would surely attend… but only half of my family would make it. OR we could throw our Celebration of Undying Love down in Texas, where our families could both be there, in their entirety – but fewer of our friends could make it, most likely. In our minds, immediate family members missing this particular shindig because they are disabled is a locale dealbreaker. I want my family there – all of them - so officially...

(Unknown artist illustration, modified by me)

We've just wrapped up several months of WEDDING STUFF – all of which I will surely share. Stay tuned, friends…

*I'm a Cowboys fan 'til I die, minus the convict years – don't tell Bossyboots.

Angry Days, Happy Days

The angry days. Anyone who's ever been in a romantic relationship of over a year knows what I mean - the days when you and your partner kind of want to send each other on a special vacation. By themselves:

Fighting used to feel like a bad sign to me. Like an omen that my relationship was doomed. Bossyboots and I rarely fight, but it does happen (because we're normal!)

Last year, I read the novel Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen. There were about 8,000 things in that book that were amazing, but one scene really hit home to me. There's a section where a mother is questioning her son about his relationship with his girlfriend. She asks (paraphrased) "Do you guys fight?" She goes on to explain that if they never fight, that means they aren't being real with each other; they're living in fantasy land. Being real and genuine means fighting sometimes.

That idea stuck with me, and I love it. Often, I think some of us don't say what we really feel (expressed with love!) Sometimes my efforts to be respectful of others' opinions/feelings means I overly squelch my own. And I know I want to know what my partner really wants - I don't need him to agree with me on everything. If Bossyboots and I agreed on everything... how would we grow? Part of why I believe in marriage isn't just for the cuddles, legal benefits, or tax breaks - it's because a valuable partnership is challenging.

Obviously the kind of fighting that involves name-calling or craziness is no bueno, and it's not good to always be fighting, but... a reasonable amount of fighting is nothing to be afraid of. In fact, maybe it's a good thing. It means we love each other for who we really are.

*All photos are personal