Reader Request Week: Meeting the husband

I realise Reader Request Week is rapidly becoming Reading Request Month, but what can I say? The elections sucked up most of my attention and energies last week. Plus I've always excelled at procrastinating.

Anyway, way back when I asked for requests, pinkyjumbo asked about my "love story with Terz" and fuschia cow submitted a similar request via email, wanting to know how I met Terz. Without getting into the gory details, here's the safe-for-public-consumption version of how I met and married my husband.

Our first meeting was quite a classic moment. It was the first day of class at the National Institute of Education (the local teachers' training college, or at least, that's what it's supposed to be), I was jetlagged from having flown in less than 48 hours ago from what felt like a three-day non-stop party in Honolulu, and I had no idea where I was supposed to be or even what classes I was supposed to be taking. Somehow, I got myself to the right place for a literature class, where I encountered the first familiar face --- an old friend from junior college.

"I have no idea what is going on or where I'm supposed to be? How the fuck is anyone supposed to figure things out?" I cavilled loudly, waving an incomprehensible schedule at her. (I may not have actually said "fuck", but believe me, the sentiment was there.)

Serenely, she said, "Let me introduce you to ... " And it was Terz, who not only knew had figured out the mysteries of our arcane schedule, but, I dimly recall, also had an impeccably organised file of blank foolscap and other papers needed to get through one's first day.

On his part, he tells me that after I introduced myself, he didn't catch my full name (of course), so to him I was just the girl with the really long name and who spoke really fast.

Some things haven't changed in almost nine years.

Having met, we didn't really have anything to do with each other for about six months. Then our social paths began to cross, as various groups of friends began to coalesce around the common objective of skipping as many classes and studying as little as possible without flunking out of school. Hours that should have been spent reviewing education pedagogy were instead spent kibbitzing over iced lemon tea and cigarettes (not that either of us smoked) in what was then known as Raffles canteen.

Blah blah, blah blah.

We started going out.

Blah blah, blah blah.

I proposed. No fireworks, no ring, no elaborate dinner. Just us lying around flipping through some magazines one evening, and me going, "Hey, so do you wanna get married?" And he was like, "Yeah."

And then we did.

I would stick one of our wedding photos up here, for old time's sake, but they're buried somewhere in my website where I can't find them. You'll have to imagine it for yourself.

Some people have remarked about how young I was when we got married (25). I often demur, "Oh, but my husband is a few years older." But really, it was just the right time, the right thing to do --- and of course, the right person.

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