Last weekend i got to hang out with Mac, a sweet friend who i’ve known for almost 8 years now (every year we celebrate our friendiversary – Oct 15). Since #mboot happened (and is happening again now), and since I have not exactly been loud with the details (or anything other than photos) of my current relationship, people were understandably confused. I had the following conversation a time or twelve:
“So you’re going to a wedding, for people you don’t know, with a man, who is not your boyfriend…”
“And your boyfriend feels HOW about this?”
“He trusts me and wants me to do whatever I feel comfortable with and wants me to enjoy myself.”
“Yes. I know because I asked him.”
“oh, well… i guess that’s the right response.”
Which became a theme of the wedding.
I came downstairs to meet Kevin when we were heading out:
K – Oh my…hey!
Me- Yep, that’s the right response! (he wasn’t wowing my appearance, he just hadn’t seen me in a long time, and certainly never with my hair so long.)
K- (in response to the bride) Wow, that dress is great. I like the fluffy things she had on the bottom [he meant her train].
Me – That’s tule. And it’s still there, goose, it’s just bustled. And all of that is the right response.
K- Here’s a Whiskey and Coke. (that just IS the right response, all the time ;)
Then my Giant White Novio started texting me. And I was telling Kevin about the conversation. I crap you not, folks, by the end of the night Kevin was almost as into le nouveau GWN as I am. But only almost. Cause if I told you the stories of what homenovio (his name is David, by the way) was doing off at his groomsman bachelor party weekend, you’d think one thing:
THAT’S THE RIGHT RESPONSE.
Like, okay, here’s an example:
D- “A pack of drunk girls came over to invade the hottub and flirt. They called me lame for not flirting with them and asked if I was married. I said no, but i am dating someone and she is very, very beautiful. So then I got out and now I’m making steak.”
::sigh:: I know.
Kevin decided he needed to know David. So he instructed me to take and send the following:
Anyway, so Kev and I are swooning over my swoon-worthy boyfriend, and the woman next to us at our table (wedding reception) asks:
“So how long have you been married?”
which, truth be told, we get asked EVERY time we go out.
we get along,
we arrive together,
we accidentally match sometimes,
and we’re very comfortable. Cause if our story proves anything, it’s that we’ll be friends forever. I admit, we look pretty cute together. But that’s the look of good, old friends.
And once the people at the table heard
swoon fawn talk about the Homenovio, they got the metaphorical picture that above, i look like a woman content.
But there’s another look reserved for when I’m with the one my heart loves.
(what? did she say love? uh, whatever, walk away….;)