Everybody’s Got A Little Pile of Stuff
When I first met Mike, one of our first dates was a camping trip in Southern Ohio. My best friend and roommate was incredibly concerned with my willingness to travel into the wilderness with a man I had only known for a few days… alone. She thought I might be murdered. Mike kinda looked like Christian Bale from “American Psycho”, but I thought he would be worth it. I took a chance and I’m still alive. Success!
When we woke up in the tent after a fun-filled night of chasing raccoons away from our beef jerky and getting a visit from a pack of howling coyotes, we were excited for the sunlight. On this particular morning, it was amazingly quiet. It was peaceful. I was gathering my toiletries and getting ready to head to the bathroom when Mike decided that he couldn’t hold it any longer. He let out the longest and LOUDEST fart of all time. I could hear a camper ask his neighbor if that was from a ‘Squatch in the woods’. It wasn’t. It was Mike. I’m not going to say that I wasn’t impressed, I was, but I had to get out of the tent so I didn’t pass out. EVERYONE in that effing campground heard that fart and since I was the first one to get out of the tent, I’m sure they thought it was me. Thanks, Mike. This incident was during that beautiful time in the relationship when you are trying to impress each other and only show your best characteristics. I ran off to the bathroom as quickly as possible, while Mike giggled in the tent, impressed with himself. That’s what you get when you feed your date a 12 pack of Budweiser and 2 large bags of beef jerky for dinner.
Annnnnnnnnnnnd now, I am about to own a house with this man. One day, I woke up a homeowner next to a tall, gangly, mustachioed fellow with a cat curled into his belly. It’s awesome.
While Mike was traveling in Japan, I have packed our entire apartment. No shit, really, the only things left are 2 spoons, 2 forks, the french press, a sharp knife and the cat.
Over 100 boxes, 1 take out pizza and many a beer later, I have our place ready to move. I realized, during packing, that we have A LOT of shit. As my hero, George Carlin says, “A house is just a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff!”
Mike comes home from Japan tomorrow and I can barely contain myself. We get the keys to our home on Friday and then our adventure begins!
I want to invite you to www.amightyhouse.com so that you can follow our progress, projects, and disasters in our first home. Mike’s little sister, Christy says ‘Mike and Marti’ really fast and sometimes it comes out ‘Mighty’, so this is a bit of a tribute to that. For those of you in Columbus, Ohio, I will be featuring local hardware and gardening stores, home decor boutiques and other tidbits around the city. I just learned how to code two days ago, so the site is a work in progress. After the move, I will get it all fixed up.
I hope to see you over at A Mighty House and I’m looking for some good advice and tips from other homeowners! Let’s keep in touch and thanks for stopping by.
Thanks for giving me some space on your blog for a day, Mike. Now get home and help me move all this stuff!
This is interesting; writing a bio for someone you sleep with. Okay, I met Marti during a natural disaster. Seriously, Hurricane Ike Sept, 2008. I was living at the Blue Danube Bar on High Street, because Ike blasted up through Ohio, and knocked out our grid’s power for weeks.
A mutual friend, Chance, brought Marti to the bar, and we hit it off right away. I contacted her the next day, aaaaaaand she forgot who I was. Unfazed, I convinced her to meet up for drinks at a local pub, and we connected.
Marti has seen my worst days, and somehow stuck with me. Not too many people (mates) would. She consistently surprises me with her profundity. Coming from such a small person, it’s weird, like buddha with a hot ass. And I love her for it.
She’s a creative force, a designer of life, and when she cashes in on those talents, not one person that knows her will say “Wow!”, they’ll say, “Knew it.”