A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I had a quarter life crisis. The year was 1998, in the latter Palaeolithic era, for those of you playing along at home.
I reevaluated my entire life and decided I wasn’t happy. I thought it was my job, so I applied and was accepted for a new role. Although I didn’t commence until the new year, I was invited for Friday night drinks at my new office and to attend the Christmas party. I met lots of lovely people, some of whom are friends to this day. I also noticed a cheeky chap with a big dirty laugh – just like mine.
My quarter life crisis wasn’t quite over. One morning I woke up and had another long hard look at my life and decided there was more I wasn’t happy about. I broke up a long term relationship. Oh, the relief!
From there, I found a fabulous share house, threw myself into my new role, and was determined to be single for a long long time.
One Friday, after work drinks at the office evolved to Friday night drinks with the gang at a work colleague’s flat. There was far too much red wine, cigars, no food, and, as I was told the following day, there was a tap dance demonstration too. By me.
Unfortunately, there was also a long and extended conversation with the Big White Telephone. The work colleague rescued me and tucked me in to sleep it off.
I am not a one night stand kind of girl, so imagine my confusion and horror the next day when I woke up. Where was I? Where was the work colleague? Thankfully, I was fully dressed. Mortifyingly, I was highly embarrassed. The work colleague, the cheeky chap with the big dirty laugh, was also a complete old school gentleman and had put himself to bed in his spare room.
The following Monday, I must have typed a million emails and deleted about a million emails too. Finally, messages were exchanged, profuse apologies were proffered and accepted, and I asked this chap out to a movie to say thank you.
Somehow, the movie evolved into lunch and a movie. Lunch at a lovely harbourside seafood restaurant. But was it a date? I wasn’t quite sure. I spent far too many Sex and the City-style hours analysing this with my girlfriends. I kept thinking “but I’m supposed to be single”.
One girlfriend put it into perspective for me. He’s a lovely man and it’s just lunch. It’s not like you have to marry him. By the time you decide you’re ready, someone else will have snapped up this lovely man. Oh, and you can bet your ex boyfriend isn’t embarking on a re-virginisation process. Good points. Well made.
So, no pressure then. Just a lovely Sunday lunch with a lovely man. Except when we checked the date, we realised it was Valentine’s Day. Talk about first date pressure!
The cheeky chap was also a thinking man. Our very romantic planned first date was usurped by Friday night pizza, beer and Super 12 rugby. With a very sweet and romantic first kiss.
A dozen long stemmed roses were delivered on Saturday – yes, it was definitely a date! I hit the shops to buy a new dress. A gorgeous pale blue Studibaker Hawke number. I may have also bought some lovely new lingerie too. A girl wants to feel gorgeous from the skin out, right?
The date was magical. Just wonderful. A phrase was coined that day – any delicious food is now described as “positively ambrosial”. After our gorgeous long lunch, we went to the movies to see Saving Private Ryan. Romantic huh?
Our song evolved from that second first date. Into Temptation by Crowded House. Let me share a little bit.
The Welshman bought himself a new outfit too – a blue checked Country Road shirt. He wore this shirt on another first date – the day our beloved Boyo was born. Is it any wonder that blue is one of my favourite colours?
Just this week, we celebrated 15 years together. A date night extraordinaire! Dinner at DeVine Food and Wine followed by Eddie Vedder in concert, supported by Glen Hazard. Oh, just magical!
If ever there was a power chunder worth having, it was way back when in 1999. I love this man so very very much. Sweet sweet love.
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