Thursday, March 27, 2008
Today's topic for Wijvenweek is "men." If I really tried, I could probably write some snazzy, über-girly post on this topic, but I just don't have it in me, now or ever (further proof that this is not a girly blog. Are you taking notes, Jeremy?).
But the assigned topic remains, so I'll tell you about the man in my life. Jeremy and I have been married for almost 6.5 years. Here's the short story of how we met. There are more details that had an impact on the story that occurred months before we actually met. Even though sharing those details would probably make this entry more girly, I'm going to refrain for the sake of my audience.
It was the fall of 1999. Pervez Musharraf was taking control of the Pakistani government, tech-nerds were busy warning us about Y2K, calendar-nerds were trying to spread the news that the new century didn't start until 2001, and NCMO and one-strap backpacks were about to rock Brigham Young University's world as we knew it. Meanwhile, I was taking German 101 as part of my linguistics major requirements. My teacher was a German who lived in the FLSR as the native German speaker for the German house (apartment). Also living in that apartment? Mr. Jeremy Palmer.
At the end of the semester, our teacher put us into groups and had us write, perform, and film skits entirely in German. My group's skit was rather clever, if I do say so myself, even if my classmates cast me in a role way beyond my comfort zone (which was very, very small). Somehow, in our film, they had me wearing a motorcycle helmet that was huge beyond all reason and riding a gigantic old bike in the snow while the wicked witch music from The Wizard of Oz played in the background (among other interesting scenes).
Our teacher enjoyed our skit so much that he showed it to a lot of people, including his roommates, one of whom was Jeremy, as I already mentioned. A few months later, he saw me on campus. Even though he was a total stranger to me, he approached me and uttered the classic line, "Hey, I think I saw you in a movie once."
Common sense dictated that at such a moment, I should turn and run away as fast as possible in the opposite direction. But of course I didn't. We didn't start dating immediately, though. In fact, there were a few bumps on the road to a relationship that included Jeremy writing me an email that basically said he thought I was a stuck-up jerk. Yes, really.
But we got over that, and then took a break when I went on a study abroad to Japan for the summer. Then we dated some more back at the BYU, while I secretly hoped for war in the Middle East so his upcoming study abroad to Jerusalem (to study Arabic) would be canceled. And it was canceled - and then they announced that they were taking the Arabic students to Damascus, Syria instead.
Eventually, we managed to date for more than a few consecutive months while also remaining in the same country as each other. We were engaged on October 4, 2001, the day before my 20th birthday. Jeremy maintains that this was so he could say he was engaged to a 19-year-old (if only for a day), and knowing him as I do, I don't think he's entirely joking. We were married on November 20, 2001 in Portland, Oregon.
Seven weeks later, we left the country again, but this time it was to Moscow, Russia - and we were together. The end.
I hope you enjoyed today's wijvenweek installment. Tune in tomorrow for "mijn huishouden," which I am guessing means something about my household. I'm not using a translator here, and I don't speak Dutch - I'm just relying on my dusty knowledge of that most romantic of languages, German. After all, it's the one that brought Jeremy and me together.