Jenni wrote the first three of these so I figured it was my chance to give it a whirl.  In just three short days Jenni will officially be Mrs. Wood.  The best part is that she seems genuinely excited, so I don't want to break it to her how crazy of an idea that this is. 

She is unlike anyone that I had ever dated. 

She is completely blunt and didn't give a damn what anyone thought.  I like independent women. 

She's got the mouth of a sailor on a bad day.  I like four letter words. 

She is gaseous and laughs about it.  I am six years old at heart. 

She is easily fired up and I don't get angry at all.  Unless I'm hungry or sleepy according to Jenni. 

She loves to bake and I love to eat. 

I would say we go together like peas and carrots but she HATES Forrest Gump for ruining her name.  So I'll say we're olives and peanut butter.  I think that's weird as hell but she has it for 'zerps every night, so it clearly has to be a winning combination. 

Jumping back for a moment, if you will indulge me and clearly you will if you read up to this point, to our third date.  Although I'm not sure the number is exactly right because she made me attend a pre-date, so I'm never sure if that is actually number one.  Anyway, third date, Jenni wants to learn to play tennis so I agree to teach her.  We go and play for a bit, I learn at this time that depth perception may be an issue for her but she gave her all and that's all I can ask for.  Afterwards we go and get subway and bring it back to my house.

We sit down and start eating her sandwiches and I look over at her and say "You want to be my girlfriend, don't you?" 

She smiled rather largely and said "Nooo.  Why do you say that?" 

"I can just tell.  It's okay you can say you want to be my girlfriend."

"What if I don't want to be?"

"That's okay, I know you do!"

She had no answer other than a big grin.  I could have taken it a step further and said you want to be my wife.  I had an inkling already, but I wanted to seem confident, not conceited.  But I knew and so did she.

It has been said that you cannot expect anyone to truly love you until you love yourself. I don't know who said that, but I'm sure they were very wise, or a used car salesman. To take it a step further, I think you can't really love yourself (or anyone else) until you really understand what you're made of. What makes you tick. Your strenghts, your weaknesses, your wants, your needs, your...self. You have to know yourself.

I know myself...and my true self is a "Type - A" "Martha-Stewart-on speed-meets-Sandra-Lee-on-steroids" control freak. And because I know myself, I've allowed Michael to know my true self... and we agreed. Michael being practical, and me being boarderline psychotic it was very obvious that we do not need a "wedding". The tradition, the pomp and circumstance, it's genuinely lovely but it's not for us.

When I found myself swamped in a running dialogue with my mother, sister, and unsuspecting brother in law (our family lighting guru) over "glowing orbs" or as I have deemed them "Fairy Boogers" it became even more obvious: we DO NOT need a wedding. Aside from being a detail oriented crafting MACHINE, I'm also incredibly cheap, and I nearly had a panic attack at the thought of spending $2.00 per booger for a two hour dinner. $2.00 PER BOOGER?! (I named them Fairy Boogers after realizing that I have "sneezed" orbs bigger than these...)

WHO is going to sprinkle the Fairy Boogers on the table? WHO is going to make the centerpieces. WHO IS GOING TO DO ALL OF THIS BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE TIME OR MONEY AND TIME IS MONEY AND I AM THE CRAFT CHAMPION - HULK SMASH!!! ARRRRRRGH. (Ok, so maybe I didn't "nearly" have a panic attack. It was legit.)

And thus began my descent into madness. Though, if we're being honest, my sanity was questionable to begin with. I don't begrudge anyone a big fariy tale wedding. I think weddings are beautiful and I think most people enjoy them! I just get trapped in the details and the whole thing becomes financially and emotionally overwhelming for me, as though our future happiness revolves around napkins folded into swans arranged with necks intertwined to look like hearts. My true self is slightly OCD and incapable of looking past the details to enjoy the bigger picture.

Selfishly, for my sake - I need to keep it simple to remember that it's not about place cards and tea lights and fairy boogers. It's about choosing to spend the rest of your life with someone. The ceremony or wedding or whatever is ultimately not what the day is about. It's about celebrating finding your soul mate, your lobster, your other half. That's the heart of it.

When all is said and done, I'll have Michael, Michael will have me, we'll be side by side and that's what matters. At the moment, it just so happens we're side by side with Michael "talking me off the ledge" as I'm surrounded by a pile of metalic stamped wine corks and bottle cap flowers. (Which look awesome, by the way!) Unrelated note: Pintrest is the devil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Much of our relationship has centered around movies. You may (or may not) know this about Michael, but he is somewhat of a movie buff. And by somewhat, I mean he can name all of the best picture winners EVER and we have an entire wall of our house filled with movies. His friends have coined it "Michael's Magic Movie Rentals".

Not surprisingly, we found ourselves watching a movie in the early part of our relationship, although this one was on TBS. Three times in a row, for a whole weekend. You know it has to be either "A Christmas Story" or "Independence Day". Also, I might have a thing for Will Smith...and Jeff Goldbloom...together..... but not in THAT way. In the mid 90's "new" graphics that look ancient now but Bill Pullman gave a really great speech and Randy Quaid appears somewhat randomly to remind us all of someone we know way. (By now surely you've guessed which movie it was. If you haven't, you clearly hate America.)

In the locker room scene, where Will Smith discloses his intentions for his beautiful way-too-pretty-to-be-a-real-stripper girlfriend to his BFF Harry Connick Jr. Because Will Smith's character believes all women want a ring designed by a 10 year old Lisa Frank fanatic, he whips out gumball machine ring: silver-ish with two dolphins around a blue austrian crystal.

 

I turned to Michael and said, "Just so that you know, if you ever want to marry me, you'd better give me a dolphin ring. None of this 'diamond' crap for me. You better bring me some dolphins, or no dice."

 

This has been a running gag between us throughout our entire relationship. And, it proved to be really symbolic in a way.

 

During the power outtages of the April 27th tornado, I decided I'd be a genius and do some cleaning. Minutes later I found myself on the floor, lahmaz breathing after trying to lift a box of cooking magazines. In my defense, it was heavy... I like my magazines to be VERY informative...

 

(I'd find out later that I had popped a rib head out.) After being absolutely stationary for the following two days, Michael suggested leaving town to somewhere that I could have a hot shower, thinking maybe the hot water would help relax my muscles. Seeing as how I hadn't really moved from the date of injury to that time...and also the fact that I was starting to smell, I hobbled into the car and we drove to the nearest town with electricity and available hotel rooms: Chattanooga.

I was coming out of the bathroom of the hotel room (I know, how romantic!) when Michael said, "You should check your phone, I think you have a message." As I walked over to my phone I saw a tiny box placed on top, and immediately I thought, "Oh, thank god, Chocolate! He got me the perfect peice of chocolate! Please let it have raspberry....." (Ok, so I was obviously not in my right mind, but to be fair most of his surprises involve chocolate.)

I opened the box to find two dolphins wrapped around a black pearl. Black, to represent my frigid heart... ok not really. But it is VERY tasteful for a dolphin ring! He looked up at me and said, "So....?"

I knew very well what this meant, but no girl wants to be the crazy girl who assumes she's getting engaged only to find that it was some kind of joke or misunderstanding, and has made a complete fool of herself. There's no taksies backsies after that. "....is there something you'd like to ask me?" I said, not believing what I already knew.

He comes over, gets down on one knee and says, "Will you marry me?"  I said "YES! I love you" and leaned half an inch in his direction. (It was the best I could do under the circumstances.) But in my heart I was jumping up and down!

And I STILL get that giddy, dreamlike feeling every time I realize I'm going to be Mrs. Wood in... let's see. THREE WEEKS. But I will not be "Mrs. Brown-Wood" (heh heh "Brown Wood").

 

 

 

For those of you who've known me (Jenni) for several years, you'll probably remember my dating chronicles, now immortalized on FaceBook. From "McGeeky" to "McCreepy", "The Hunchback" and almost everything in between, I'd had my fair share of "dates". There were many "nice" guys, but few made it past a third date. There just lacked... a connection.

When I arrived at call, the last thing on my mind was dating. Auditioning is a world with which I'm very familiar, so I just showed up, ready to see a bunch of people I knew, ready to get to work and have fun. So, I did just that.

I checked in with Darin (who'd sent me on the audition), read through the sides, and immediately began chatting with my familiar theatre gang, also ready to audition. We were in transport to the "holding pen", following a series of twists and turns somehow encased in this seemlingly small building when we arrived at a door. A door that I ran smack into. "That door came out of NOwhere" I said in jest (as only someone who has walked into many a door can do).

We took our seats in the "holding pen" outside of the screening room, and the usual  good natured ribbing and "That's what she said" that typically happens amongst theatre people ensued.

"Hey... you're Sarah Brown's sister, right?" asked the ninja, lurking in the corner. (Ok, so it wasn't a real ninja, but seriously he came out of nowhere. Much like the door.)

"Yes....what has she done now?" Was my ill thought out response. I have this nasty habit of allowing whatever pops into my mind to fly out of my mouth...which often gets me into trouble.

"No...well, I don't know. But I was in a show with her last fall. Laughter on the 23rd Floor?" He phrased it like a question even though we both knew it was a statement. It was his thinly veiled attempt at modesty. Probably the first and last attempt I'd see again.

"Oh yeah. You're Michael, right?" And I was right. And that statement has proven to be the foundation of our relationship. I AM right. Always. (I kid, I kid.) (But seriously... I am.)

I don't believe in love at first sight, and I still don't, but I do believe there are people with whom we instantly connect, or "soulmates" as other people call it. And, right off the bat, I knew Michael was mine.

Here we are, three years later and I've only just now asked Michael why he first talked to me. "Well, I sat by you on purpose" he says. "And...I remember that you walked into a door. I thought it was cute."

 Say what you will, but I'm confident that there will be many more doors for me to walk into in our future together. So I'm sure I'll never be accused of not "keeping the flame alive."

And FYI, neither of us booked the job, BUT I still think we got the better end of the deal.