Today's post is all about the first date the hubs and I had, which occurred on May 12. Long before he was the hubs. Back when he was a super single hottie and he made me nervous and drooly. Yes, drooly. (it's a word. promise)
Below is the tale of our first outing together on a date-type-thing, bearing in mind that we'd known each other for 18 years prior to this. To avoid confusion, I will be referring to the hubs as 'C' in the story, since he wasn't yet 'the hubs', mmmkay?
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The idea for our first date actually came from Leno, or rather, Rebecca Romijn who was making an appearance on Leno. She brought with her a portrait of herself and a friend in hideous 80's thrift store clothing and recounted to Leno about how they went to a Wal-mart portait studio and had photos made in these clothes, and here's the kicker- they used different personas. They each gave themselves a 'charater name' and kept it up throughout the entire photo session. They paid in cash.
This idea to me was pure genius, so I proposed it to C, who of course said YES. We made plans for him to pick me up on the night of the 12th.
The night came and I waited,
and waited,
and waited.
C calls and tells me he's had an accident. (not gonna lie here- my first thought was, "God, are you trying to tell me something?")
He says he rear-ended the car in front of him at a light because he was staring at Louie Linguini (a popular radio personality in our state).
Since there were no injuries and very little damage to the vehicles, the cop who responded was able to write a report fairly quickly and, once again, C is on his way.
sheesh.
He arrives and we head out to the thrift store looking for some hideoderous 80's clothes. I settle on a petite dress covered in sailboats and missing a shoulder pad. If you've seen me, you know nothing about me is petite. I'm 5'9 and love heels. The sleeves made it to about the middle of my arm.
Perfect.
C settles on a maroon blazer, jewl-tone striped dress shirt, and a striped tie. I'd like to also state that he did in fact, wear pants, just can't remember what they looked like.
We leave, quite happy with our selections, and head back to my parents house to get gussied up. I found a pair of my mums HUGE-framed glasses from the 80's and some awesomely tacky gold jewelry. I tried my best to tease the snot out of my hair to create some sort of hot mess on my head, but in the giddiness of seeing C that night, I'd straightened it. Blargh.
Once we were satisfied with our tackiness, we headed to Wal-mart, but not before coming up with a story to tell the photographer. My name was Margaret and C's had to be, well, his actual name since he didn't bring cash and would have to hand over his debit card to pay for the pics. We decided we'd be brother and sister, and that we'd tell the photog we were having photos made for our mum for Mother's Day which was the following week.
That photog I mentioned? Let's talk about her for a sec, shall we? Those tacky-80's clothing-wearing-large-take-up-half-my-face-glasses-wearing-people we were pretending to be........you know, THOSE people?
She actually was one.
Her shirt was red/white gingham with appliqued pigs all over the front.
There was also an appliqued barn.
There was also an appliqued barn.
Yep.
A barn, folks.
Just like my mom wore in 1988,
only this was 2006
And her glasses did indeed take up half her face.
Bless her...
We told her our story and it seemed to make her night that we were there to make these precious memories for our Mother, and that we'd chosen her to be a part of it. Before the photo shoot, she showed us what she'd just purchased for her own mum for Mother's Day- A gold necklace sporting a red rose with a gold stem and the word 'Mother' in front. You know the ones?
Anywho...
We picked out a backdrop (flowers, of course) and she went to shooting us.
First, a traditional pose-
I wasn't kidding about the glasses.
Or the dress.
Or the shirt.
Next, she took individual shots of us. She went to a box of props and pulled out a flower. I'm laughing as I type this, but how oh HOW on earth did we not lose it and bust out laughing.
She pulled out a flower for me to hold, folks.
Here I am in all my individual flower-holding pose glory-
The one shoulder pad in the dress in on my left, fyi.
Now, back to the 'date' part of all of this, C and I are having a field day with the fact that we were pulling one over on this poor woman, bless her heart, and are making, "can you believe we're doing this?" faces at each other all the while. I was also thinking, my my my...he's still a hottie in those hideoderous clothes....
After she'd taken the shots of me holding the flower, C speaks up and says he'd like to take a pic like that too.
Holding the flower.
I almost wet myself, but I kept it together.
And in case you were wondering how many crazyhideous pictures came in our photo package-
and there's an 11 X 14 not in the picture because I can't for the life of me remember what we did with it.
That cardboard frame was also included and the bottom states,
"Happiness is..."
Our total cost for these pictures?
Well folks- see for yourself....
a whopping $6.88.
For loads and loads of silly pics of us.
If you look closely at the top of this next pic, you'll notice the backdrop doesn't go all the way to the top on the right side.
That's because the photographer, God bless her, had to hold it behind us with one hand while she stood in FRONT of us and squeezed the blood-pressure-like thingy that took the pic.
Yep.
Not makin this up friends.
So...
in a nutshell, that's the tale of our first date.
It ended with us watching tv for a bit, and then C leaving for home.
No kiss.
In fact, it was quite a while before we had that first kiss.
Maybe date #4 or #5?
That's okay though- we made up for it after the wedding by having lots of babes.
(sorry to those of you in my fam that read this...)
And, just in case you're new here to the ole' blog and are thinking that we actually look that homely,
I assure you, we do not.
At least, I'd like to think we don't.
Happy Saturday friends.
And next weekend, just for kicks, head out to your local thrift store and pick out some tackiness and have your picture made in it.
It's a guaranteed good time.
pinky promise
