Rob and Me

Special Marriage Meme for Our Anniversary


I found this months ago on Archie’s site and thought it appropriate for the celebration of Rob and my second wedding anniversary which is today. Archie found it originally over at Litlove’s delightful blog and then saw it again on Lily’s entertaining blog.

What are your middle names?

Mine is “Marie” the same as my mother’s. Rob’s middle name is “Shaun”. I don’t know the significance of it.

How long have you been together?

We met on the YWBB, specifically on a post he put up on the general section of the board. That was in December of 2006. Rob saved that post. Our first long conversation was in a chat room. We ended up being the last two people there despite the fact that there was another woman stalking Rob at the time and pulling him out to side chats. Eventually he ditched her to talk with me although on the surface neither of us were looking at our getting to know each other as anything more than virtual friends. 

How long did you know each other before you began dating?

We were e-mail pals for about  five or six weeks before we were more than that. We were in contact just about every day. Support at first but that changed rather quickly and became more of the getting to know you stuff that happens when people first meet. 

Who asked whom out?

He sent me an e-mail the day after the first anniversary of Will’s death. It was long, rambling, very sweet. I was stunned. I liked him, but he’d been so adamant about internet romances being bad things (there was a lot of that going around on the widda board at the time) that I put the idea way on the back burner. My BFF was always pushing me to try and sound him out about the possibility of he and I, but I rebuffed her. I respected Rob too much and wasn’t going to endanger our friendship by being forward. Our first “date” was via the phone. I was reluctant to go to the phone. I don’t do “good phone”, but he was as easy to talk to as he was to correspond with.

How old are you?

I was born in Iowa in 1963. He was born in Ontario in 1961. I have never been younger than a man I was with. It’s kinda fun. He grumps a bit because he was younger (a few months) than Shelley and he hates having lost the age “advantage”.

Whose siblings do you see the most?

Mine, I guess, but we live pretty far away from family. Rob’s siblings are younger (some a lot younger) and they aren’t a close-knit group. I have met only his sisters and not his younger brother. Funnily, I have met all of Shelley’s siblings, nieces and nephews and many of her cousins, aunts and uncles.

My sister, DNOS, and her husband and son are the ones we see the most, aside from Shelley’s family.  My younger siblings are not really part of our lives, but Rob has met them both. He’s also met much of my extended family and I have met a few of his mom’s extended family.

Which situation is hardest on you as a couple?

I had to think about this a long time because I don’t think we have any issues that are “hard”. There have been issues that have come up concerning the children and other family members, but nothing that we couldn’t deal with. Recently we have been tossing around the “where will we be buried” thing again. I have a plot back in Des Moines where Will is but haven’t much desire to be buried there myself. Rob’s late wife is still, mostly, in a container in our basement. I think it would be easier if we all just faded into nothingness like Yoda did, but that’s just me.

Did you go to the same school?

No.

Are you from the same home town?

No. Not even the same country.

Who is smarter?

That depends on who you are asking and what the topic is, but generally, I would say he is a tad bit smarter than I am in most areas and a whole lot smarter in his fields of expertise.

Who is the most sensitive?

To others? He is. I am about as tactful as a face plant on the pavement. In terms of personal slight? That would be me. My feelings get hurt very easily because I read things into people’s actions and words that perhaps they don’t realize they are telegraphing along with the surface content. It has made life hard for me and sometimes still, I feel the need to back away from humanity to ease the scraped raw feeling I get from being too close.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?

My food allergies make eating out … challenging. There is a place I love in Edmonton called The High Level Diner, but mainly, it’s Humpty’s, Boston Pizza and Subway.

Where is the furthest you have traveled together as a couple?

By road? To Iowa and then southern Illinois for our honeymoon. But long trips are a fact of life here in the Great White North. No place we have been has been less than a five hour drive. We’ve been to Jasper to get married, Regina and Penticton to visit Rob’s mom, Fairmont Hot Springs and Revelstoke for vacations. We’ve gone farther north (yes, there is a farther north) to Grande Prairie for funerals. Rob and I also went to Arkansas on our first road trip, and we met in person for the first time in Idaho Falls.

Who has the craziest exes?

We don’t have those. My husband is buried in Iowa and his wife’s remains are in a container in our basement.  So what we have is … unusual … by the standards of many.

Who has the worst temper?

We have the same temper and that is the problem. We are both the stewing sort that give off radioactive heat, but we really don’t disagree that often and we are both working on the whole “talking” as opposed to “clamming up” thing and I must say we have made remarkable progress on that front. 

Who does the most cooking?

He did in the beginning because I had never really cooked an entire meal family style before in my life. I do the lion’s share now but he is good with breakfast on vacations and weekends.

Who is the most stubborn?

Again, kind of a “two peas” situation. I am the more flexible though, imo.

Who hogs the bed most?

Me. I am a snuggler. He moves away (because I apparently give off quite a bit of heat) and I follow until he is clinging to the side of the bed. He takes all the covers though.

Who does the laundry?

Me mostly but he will often take it upon himself to do the wash. He folds too – much better than I do. I can’t complain at all when it comes to the housewifey things. Rob has the attitude that he is as responsible as I am for cleaning and whatnot.

Who’s better with the computer?

Not even a contest, he is.

Who drives when you are together?

Rob always drives even on long trips (because I drive too slow – the speed limit). I prefer to be driven really. It would be nice to live in a place where one is able to walk most everywhere but that’s not the reality right now.


So there you have it. If anyone is inclined, please join in the “Marriage Meme”. 


Red-Shirted: Musings on Star Trek


There’s a scene in the new Star Trek movie that has Kirk and Sulu space-jumping from a shuttle onto a drilling platform in an attempt to disable it and save the planet Vulcan. Jumping along with them is a crew member named Olson. Because there are several characters who crop up with names from the old series, Rob wondered who Olson was.

“He’s wearing red, honey,” I whispered, “so it doesn’t matter.”

Aficionados of the original television show can attest to the fact that unidentified crew members wearing red shirts were regularly sacrificed to the harsh realities of space travel in the place of established characters like Kirk and Sulu. Red shirting equaled dead.

It’s interesting how we come to associate certain conditions with predictable outcomes.

We were sitting in a packed theatre in The Park after having braved an overcrowded lobby for tickets and popcorn. Rob and I divided and conquered to achieve our ends as quickly as possible. He hopped into the ticket line and I got in the shortest of the concession lines, which meant nothing. Length of queue is no indication that the person running the till is fast or slow. Canadians just don’t get the whole “service” idea and incompetent workers are aided by the overall Canadian “too polite to complain” thing.

I won. It took twenty minutes for me to achieve Nirvana/service while Rob had only made the middle of his line. As I waited, I noticed that many others used our strategy and the number of people in front of me changed frequently. The young man behind the counter had a deer in the headlight expression but it didn’t keep him from functioning at a level one doesn’t often see – efficient – and this aura of knowing what the fuck he was doing had attracted him some assistance in the form of a more frightened looking young man who scurried around behind him helping to fill orders.

There were a number of families, who I will assume were there to see UP but since Drag Me To Hell seemed to be the movie most people were nattering about, I can’t be sure. One couple nitpicked at the Competent Worker while their two little boys hung on the counter and licked the ice in the container next to the soda dispenser. It should go without saying that we had bottled water for our beverage.

We found seats easily. Annoyed the woman seating on the end as we took turns visiting the washroom before the show began. And I will note here that there were far too many tinkled on toilet seat lids for my liking in the washroom and if toilet seats are great germ transmitters (they are not sinks and door handles are) in public restrooms, it is the fault of idiotic women dangling their bums about toilet seats.

Despite the lack of seating by preview time, Rob and I selfishly maintained a barrier of a vacant seat on either side of us. I really prefer not to literally rub elbows. There was one woman to our left who texted until the film began and some geezers behind us who had to comment on every little homage to the original series the movie paid (I know that Rob and I are old too but we were not teens or even preteens when the show originally aired. In fact, I was in pre-school and didn’t see it until it began its run in syndication when I was about 11.) These minor things aside, it was an enjoyable  outing .

One thing horrified me as we were leaving – the last ones because we watched nearly all the credits – was the fact that no one took their garbage out with them. I looked up and saw that nearly every seat had an abandoned soda cup. Popcorn bags carpeted the floor or were left perched on seats. And there we were, toting our empty bags and water bottles out.

Not that there was a trash can to put things in. The one at the exit was overflowing, but c’mon –  raised in a barn much?

Oh, the movie? The stereo-type thing cropped up in the form of death and widowhood – again. When Kirk’s father dies just seconds after his birth and he and his wife are saying their goodbyes – I was on the verge of tears. But I found the melodrama a bit hackneyed and unrealistic. Death is not normally so poetic and purposeful. George Kirk dies by choice to save his crew, wife and newborn son. If only we all could have such a meaningful end.

Kirk’s “poor me my dad is dead” rebellion rated an eye-roll even though I completely agreed with another character’s dismissal of his behavior as a waste of time that should be put to better use. And Spock’s dramatic break over his mother’s death played into the idea that grief renders people incapable grated a bit. Probably it was the link to temporary insanity. I still don’t believe that the grieving are hothouse vegetation who can’t think clearly enough to take care of business and think about the future. Grief can be allowed a debilitating mis-step here and there, and some people let it swamp them, but most people carry on more or less without any need to abdicate. Grief is not a mental illness. It’s not a breakdown. It’s normal. One deals.

The alternate timeline thing was brilliant though scientifically flawed. I liked Spock and Uhura together. I loved Scotty and Kirk was better than expected although I am not entirely convinced he will grow up to be William Shatner someday.

The best thing about the movie was talking Trek with Rob afterwards. There is nothing like snuggling up and musing on the geekier gulity pleasures in life with one’s life-mate.

Credit Where it is Due


Maria Schneider wrote a couple of pieces not long ago about how crucial it is to have the support of loved ones when one is pursuing a dream, in her case the formation of her writing blog. I often write about Rob and his faith in me as a writer and his unwavering support which predates our romantic relationship even.

I wouldn’t have accomplished what I have in the last year had it not been for Rob, and though I spend a great deal of time writing about him and fashioning his virtual image in the constellation of the web like a Greek god in the heavens, I still feel remiss.

Thanks, baby.