Dare I Say It? Could it be?

The Oceangypsyhouse has come under a spell. A spell that is all-powerful, all-encompassing and downright scary! Dare I say it? Could it be true? Could it be young love? The smiling grin from ear to ear across Braveheart's face is a tell tale sign. The constant texting, another sign. The gagging aroma of perfume that one obviously must have bathed in, permeates throughout the house.
It is both amusing and downright terrifying at the same time. I so remember that "he really likes me" feeling. I remember my cheeks aching from all the smiling. I remember trying not to smile and not quite being able to achieve it. I remember the anticipation of the first kiss, the cloud 109 effect it had, the "I can't breathe without you near" intoxication and that's what scares me. I swear I can actually feel my hair turning gray at the roots!
What if this one is "The One?" What if he isn't? What if he breaks her heart? (It's okay if she breaks his.)
I'm trying to be nonchalant about it all. Trying to not crowd them but remain diligent. Why the hell did we buy a house with a basement? Why didn't we ever think about the future movie watching, hand holding, snuggling that would occur on that couch? I'm pretty sure that I could get rid of it under the guise of redecorating and replace it with a rod iron chair or two. In the meantime, I'm working under the keep your enemies close mentality. I've befriended him on Facebook and done all the digging I can there... didn't really find much but sappy love posts to my daughter! Not very comforting.
So, basically Braveheart's running around with a butterfly in the stomach feeling and the hubby and I are running around with the "I could puke any minute" feeling.

Ha Ha

Remember when you were a pre-teen and just really noticing boys? Remember the one that was oh, so fine and in high school. It didn't matter that he was "older" because that probably meant that he was more "mature". He drove and in your mind's eye you could picture yourself sitting shotgun with the wind blowing through your hair. He would reach for the radio the same time as you and just so gently, his hand would touch yours. He was the one that stopped time. His mere glance in your direction was hard proof that someday he'd be interested in you.

In my life this oh, so hot guy was Sean. Our families hung out together and by default we sort of hung out together too. Actually, he hung out with his much older friends and I tried desperately not to fall into the "little kid" crowd. I was much too self confident to fall to pieces when he would bring a girlfriend around. I knew that someday he'd see me. One day, I'd be his girlfriend and this current floozy, a distant memory.

One day Sean's mom was cleaning out his closet. She nearly threw out his John Elway jersey! Thankfully, I rescued the jersey from destruction and wore it as a pajama shirt for years. Yes, it was a way to FEEL closer to this near perfect man. Unfortunately, wearing his jersey was the closest I ever came to Sean. Despite my young, pre-teen heart full of hope, my love for Sean was unrequited.

Imagine my surprise when his name came up at a dinner party the other night, 23 years later! I had nearly forgotten him! Allowing for my cousins to make MAJOR fun of me, I admitted to my long time crush. "Oh, he still lives at home," my cousin remarks, "in the basement."

It's hard not to just say "Ha!" You missed out Sean, you missed your chance. And, thank the Lord for unanswered prayers!

Oh, Spring Where Art Thou?

Spring, why oh why do you play with my emotions? You flirt with me throughout the winter months. Beckoning to me with your alluring sunshine. You call to me on not so gentle breezes to come out and play. But, where oh where have you gone? Why do you hide yourself from me and let Winter take center stage once again? You know that you are my true love. No snowflake, ice crystal or slushy street can compare to your beauty. Spring, oh spring, I am willing to forgo any relationship I have with ol' man Winter for the rest of my days if you will only come back.

I looked and looked and found signs of you everywhere. The tulips, irises, and peonies bursting forth from the cold hard ground gave me hope and brought a smile to my face. How cruel it is for you to beckon them forth only to forsake them to the dreaded snowdrift. Won't you come and save them from sudden death? It is only by chance that my schedule would not bend to your warm advances and have saved me and the garden from the agony of early defeat. You are sly my true love. Why do you toy with me?

Oh my darling Spring do not envy my ability to maneuver slick and slush filled streets that no snow plow has dared to touch. Do not cherish my glow in the dark white, dry and flaking skin. Spring oh spring, the turtleneck is not all it's cracked up to be. I can hear your laughter at my feeble attempts to start a warm and crackling fire. It should come as no surprise to you that I can never remember which pull opens the flu.

It is with long suffering that I endure your mockery. How can I turn from my love for you? It is ingrained within my being and I am unable to control it. I long to feel the warmth of your kiss on my cheek instead of the sting of a winter slap. Spring oh spring, why are you so cruel?

Cooking with Love?

Some of you may know that my hubby worked as a chef for many years. And while, he is content with a can of Cheeze Whiz and Doritos, he can whip up a mean meal if he wants to. He'll always be my Top Chef. However, we, like many other families out there, are addicted to reality t.v. Top Chef is one of our favorites.

I just wanted to give a shout out to Carla, my favorite contestant. Okay, okay so Fabio was my all time favorite (love that Italian accent.) But, I was really pulling for her in the end. She kept saying that she cooked with "love." Which made me think about my own cooking. I can't even remember the last time I felt like I cooked with "love." Disdain, yes. Frustration, always. Regret, yes. But, love, umm... not so much. Now, eating with "love," I've got that down. I appreciate the effort that goes into a good meal. I appreciate that it looks pretty. I especially appreciate it if I'm not doing it. I will doubly appreciate it if I don't have to cook it or clean up after it! I guess I just don't have the patience or creativity for it. You either have it or you don't. It's like singing, which, I'm sad to say I don't have either.

A virtual margarita toast to Carla who clearly cooks with "love" and is to me a Top Chef.

Love is in the air...

I can honestly say that yesterday I was a wedding crasher! Never thought I'd do that. I debate long and hard over going to weddings of those I do know, much less someone I've never even met before. Weddings just aren't my thing. Now a good reception... that's another story. In fact, I think that's when the whole wedding scene started turning sour for me... dry receptions. I mean what's the point?

So, just why would I crash a wedding? Let's just say... love was in the air. I innocently went to church and part of the service was a chance for all married couples to renew their vows. My husband is always off doing tech support so I was surprised when he was waiting for me at the front of the church! Yes, there were tears in both our eyes. It's amazing how much more those vows mean when you know the full extent of them.

To have and to hold... despite times of tiredness
For richer for poorer... how about for poorer or poorer
In sickness and in health... we're getting older and just really facing sickness head on
In good times and in bad... it depends on how you look at them
As long as you both shall live... if even out of nothing but pure stubbornness!

Yes, those vows mean a lot more now.

Well, I was all caught up in the moment, feeling loved and feeling blessed to have such a great hubby. That's when they announced that there would be a wedding of a young couple directly after the service and we could stay if we wanted to. Just one week ago they were merely living together and now they wanted to make it official before God and everyone. They didn't want to wait and prolong the process. The marriage was the important thing, not the wedding. It was romantic! (Remember romance?) And, yes, I cried. I cried and cried and when will I learn to carry some Kleenex in that over sized purse of mine?

Oh, and how young they looked. They looked really, really young. Did we look that young? We must have. There is something completely endearing about the hopefulness of young newlyweds. Their biggest assets are determination and love. What else do they need? Yes, love is in the air...