The months of September & October my sophmore year were spent batting my eyelashes, doing stomach crunches & then more stomach crunches, tanning, flossing & waxing. Pretty much trying to make myself irresistable to Hunkaroonie. We spent every waking minute outside of class (which ofcourse was our main reason for being there) attached at the hip. I'd laugh histarically at his jokes and he'd tell me how I'm not like any other girl he'd met before. We would talk about dating but weren't sure how everyone would react. No one really knew that for me, it was him all along. (besides Sarah ofcourse)
November 10th, 2000.
It was a done deal. He was my boyfriend. I was his girlfriend.
We spent the remaining three years of college experiencing all that the campus & town had to offer. Making memories. Taking pictures. Keeping ticket stubs. Laughing. Learning. Changing. Growing. As individuals and as a couple. If only I could bottle these years up. I would have. They were that good.
As graduation grew closer we talked about what's next. Finding a real job. About saving (I was a spender). About moving. About our goals. Marriage. Our hopes & dreams. Luckily both of ours included one another. That, that we knew.
Unfortunately a few years before graduation we had the heartbreak of the September 11 attack and finding a job was not an easy task. I moved to the (closest) big city in hopes of finding a good job while Hunkaroonie finished up school. It was a reflective year. Experiencing a long distance relationship was quite the change for us. I accepted my first real job (in the big city). Hunkaroonie knocked his final year out of the ballpark. It was a v.e.r.y long year and we counted his graduation day down to the
We packed up the contents of his college apartment into my brother's Jeep Cherokee and his Nissan Maxima. Took one last picture and headed east to start our grown up life together. I had a (very low paying advertising) job. We signed a lease for a (one bedroom/one bathroom) apartment. We totally thought we were livin the dream. Two fools in love. Not married. No ring. Alittle niave. But very much in love. Another time I'd bottle up in a second.
After Hunkaroonie secured a full-time job we started to settle into our little humble abode. We explored the city much like tourists. We googled 'Good Mexican resturants in Plymouth', took many u-turns, bought a laminated map, and answered 'no' when asked if we'd been here before. We started meeting friends through our jobs and hosted many gatherings in our tiny apartment. We didn't have a dining room table. And our out of town visitors either stayed on the couch or a blow up air matress. The kitchen had one counter to work on but was bright white and very inviting. That tiny little kitchen is where I really started getting into cooking. I remember successfully making Rachael Ray's Italian Mac-n-Cheese and being very proud of myself. Hunkaroonie was so impressed and loved my new hobby (for his belly and our wallets). I started collecting cookbook and experimenting, day dreaming of having a house with my very own kitchen someday. But before we knew it the days of walking around the lake and eating fresh fruit were over. Summer had come and gone. Fall was coming, by far our favorite season, and we anticipated colder weather and experiencing another season in our new city.
We decided to kick off the season by taking a trip to the farm for Labor Day weekend. We loaded our suitcase into the Nissan Maxima and drove away from the city lights toward a weekend of tractors and on-and-off cell phone coverage.
Next up, How I came to be Mrs. Hunkaroonie: Part Three (the proposal)