Sunday, August 05, 2007

Happy anniversary

Today (August 5) marks the five-year anniversary of Rob's and my first date. Kindof. The benefit of hindsight helps us call it our first date. Given the date, and the fact that I'm taking a break from drafting a not-so-interesting opinion, I figured I'd write a quick post about Rob.

As for our first date, well, Rob and I met through friends in July 2002. Inspired by the 2002 World Cup, my roommate Carly, Rob's friend Christian, and Rob decided to drag a couple friends to a park in Virginia for some informal soccer. I was one of those friends, unaware that Rob had already been informed about me and my single status. The day turned out to be a lot of fun. Rob and I disagree to this day about whether I was flirting with him or not. (Correct answer = no!) But I admit I did take notice. That day's game turned into regular Sunday games with our small group, which led to regular group scheduling emails, which led to some trash talk about football vs. football (that is, American football vs. soccer) with Rob and I solidly in the football (that is, American football) camp. And that led to one of us somehow suggesting we watch a NY Giants pre-season football game together. Recently, I tried to search through my old email to figure out who actually suggested it, as I had saved every single email between me and Rob. Unfortunately, lame MSN hotmail starts deleting emails around 4.5 years old. Boo!! Glad I've switched to gmail.

No matter, the date was set. Although we hadn't called it a date. And it was a Monday night. I remember Carly telling me to have fun on my date. I insisted it wasn't a date, but she replied, "Yes it is!!!" Rob picked me up early so we could take some swings at nearby batting cages. He made me choose the beer for the evening, which was a huge dilemma because I have the worst taste in beer. I think I picked Yuengling. Not one typically in our fridge these days. Hmm. After the batting cages, we got to Rob's house and ordered pizza. The game came on, but we were pretty chatty through the first quarter. Then we played some pool. (Rob's housemate had a pool table. Sweet.) I definitely flirted. But I still didn't know if it was a date. Eventually Rob drove me home, pretty late, and while I was pondering whether this had been a date or not, Rob asked when I was leaving on vacation. I was leaving on Thursday morning. He asked if he could see me again before I left. I think I knew it was a date then. We went out again in the 48 hours before I left. We went to Two Amy's. And that was definitely a date.

In hindsight, the Monday date, the August 5th date, was a total date. The biggest clue, which I didn't fully understand at the time, was the fact that Rob didn't watch the game. Did you catch that? My husband, the world's biggest NY Giants fan, the man who wouldn't notice fireworks in the next room if the NY Giants are on the television screen, didn't watch the game. Yup, in hindsight, that makes me grin like crazy. Just to know he liked me that much. Because I liked him that much too.

Still sometimes, I'm amazed it all worked out. After all, I walked in with baggage galore and with not much faith in relationships generally. Actually zero faith. Rob took it all in stride. Somehow he turned it around. So much so that this girl who, before she met Rob, had stated with much certainty that marriage would not be on her horizon, ended up married just three and a half years later. Who knew.

Well, actually Roxanna knew, but she says she was worried I wouldn't figure it out myself. :) Somewhere along the line Carly knew. After all, she's the one who told Rob about her single roommate. Mark knew. When I told him about Rob, Mark just gave me this look. A "duh" look if ever there was one. And Rachel and Claire couldn't stop telling me how great he was. Good thing I have such smart friends!

Rob said the other day that I make him look too good on this blog. If that's true, then I suppose this sappy post is no exception. But if you'll forgive the sappiness (and I suppose you will if you've read this far), I must say that I really only speak the truth about Rob. That's not to say he is perfect or that our relationship is without flaws. So to be fair... I'll point out a flaw. Rob loves to distract me in the middle of very important television moments, like Diddy and Laurie Ann's fight on Making the Band 4, which is so annoying. Not that I'm blameless. (See previous reference to Making the Band 4, which was not a joke.) But seriously. We fight. Definitely. We're both lawyers! We get on each other's nerves, as strong-willed people tend to do.

But at the end of the day, that stuff just fades out. Seriously. I'm beyond lucky to be married to someone who is my best friend, my biggest supporter, my greatest motivator, my most loyal defender... someone who is incredibly smart, wickedly handsome, insanely funny, endlessly kind... someone who makes me laugh more than I've ever laughed, makes me more comfortable in my own skin than I've ever been, makes me so eager to come home every day... someone who spent his last semester of law school at a new school so I wouldn't have to move to Philadelphia all alone, then three years later quit his wonderfully stable and hard-earned government job to move to Chicago with me so I could take my dream job... someone who is as liberal as I am, someone who thinks a feminist wedding is the only way to go, someone who thinks having an ambitious wife is awesome, someone who takes kids seriously for the individuals they are, someone who wants to make the world a better place. And did I mention that he is a really good cook and looks damn good swinging a baseball bat and has a truly wonderful family? I mean seriously, you can't even make stuff up this good. I found the best guy. The BEST. And it started five years ago today.

I don't really know if I believe in the divine or fate or anything like that, but I can't imagine how a life partner could possibly fit me better than Rob does. And after all, according to our niece Lauren, Rob is "the funniest man in the world," so how could I go wrong? (Awww, and right now The Beatles are playing on the Yahoo music station I've got on. Now that's fate.) Back to work.


Rob said...

I'd say that none of this is true, but I've learned long ago that telling Katherine she's wrong only makes me look like a moron (except when it comes to football, in which I am confident I have the best taste imagineable).

Roxanna said...

Rob, marry me!

Kat said...


emily said...

I really enjoy your posts, especially this one. What a great story!