Eight Months, ICT, and Dracula

First off, thanks for the comments guys. I appreciate your reading this blog, and I appreciate your being so supportive. I especially appreciate Ben qualifying his last comment by stating that I had not complimented myself. This is important, because, depending on my mood, I may frequently post comments on my own writing. If I'm feeling particularly expansive, it may be something like, "Robyn, your genius is unparalled." If I'm down, I'll employ the old standard assurance that "Everyone is now stupider having read what you've written." I reserve the right to make said comments on the same day, about the same post.

Friday night was our eight month anniversary. In our pre-marital counseling, our minister, Ira, suggested that we make a point of having a difficult discussion each month during the first year of our marriage. While I am adept at cornering Ben for difficult discussions, e.g. Ben: How was your day? Robyn: How do you KNOW that you love me?, it has proven a tall order to come home from work each month on the 13th and start a discussion about how we reconcile our religious differences to raise our children with faith.

So, Friday night, in lieu of said difficult discussion, we opted instead to have dinner and dream big. We sat outside, downtown, which right now smells of lilacs, at a restaurant where my Dad once told me that he took my grandparents in the early 70's. I love this because I had not previously known that my grandfather, James, with whom I was particularly enamoured, had ever been to Lawrence, where we now make our home. It was also nice that the smell of lilacs was heavy in the air; the day that my grandfather died in 1995 was the first time in five years that the lilac bush in our backyard bloomed. The smell has ever since made me feel peaceful.

We talked about our friends and our families in that way that you never really have time for on a typical evening. We even had some of those hard discussions, but it was easier given the time we had for one another.

Many of you know that our car was pre-owned by Satan himself. Let me recount to you the following conversation that Ben and I had on Friday, which I think illustrates his confidence in my ability to diagnose automotive problems:

Robyn: "So, I'm a genius. The car started doing that shake-thing on the way back from Emporia on Wednesday, and instinct told me that I should put my foot undee the brake and pull it towards me as hard as I can. It totally worked."

Ben: (silence)

Robyn: "You're impressed, right? It totally worked!"

Ben: "That may be the smartest thing you've ever said about the car. "

Robyn: (smug smile) "As compared to what?"

Ben: "Everything else you've ever said about the car."

Touche.

On Saturday, Ben and I picked our friend Autumn up from the airport, who was making a last minute trip home from Chicago to see her grandmother, who is very ill. We hated the circumstances, but loved getting to see Autumn. It also gave us the chance to see my folks. They both had a fabulous night, as Dad got to eat German food, and Mom almost passed out when Ben mentioned that he might like it if she would be willing to make him a t-shirt quilt. I'll recount that conversation here:

Ben: "So, Nancy, we did all this cleaning this week (Mom looks peaceful when we mention cleaning) and I have all of these old t-shirts that I don't want to get rid of (Mom's heart begins to beat faster) and I was wondering if you would be willing to make me a t-shirt quilt...."

Mom: "Yes, YES, YES YES YES YES YES" (that may be exaggerated somewhat, but I swear she got louder and people at the restaurant looked up with fear at the commotion.

See, here's my Mom's priorities (through me, you'll see):

1. Matt
2. Ben
3. Dad
4. Simplifying her home
5. Quilts
6. Me

She has been trying to make a quilt for Ben and I since we first met, and his dislike of quilts may be the only thing that keeps Ben's place at #2 precarious. She has frequently suggested that she make a "manly quilt" or "just something small for the wall" and Ben has elegantly declined, so, to cope, she has to go back to her default discussions of how smart/handsome/funny/good at making biscuits my brother is.

As a result of Saturday's discussion, Ben may rival Matt for #1. I can just hear it now: "Robyn, Ben is so smart/handsome/funny/appreciative of a good quilt."

On Sunday, we had a late dinner with one Andrea Peterson. I'd like to briefly share a discussion we had during dinner, and assure you that this is not at all atypical for a discussion with Andrea.

For background, I'll offer that we were discussing "Interview with a Vampire" and suggesting alternate casting for the part of Lestat, played by Crazy Tom Cruise.

Robyn: "Would you have sex with a vampire?"

Andrea: "That's a stupid question. Everyone knows that vampires can't have sex."

Robyn: "Is it the blood thing?"

Andrea: "Well, yes, and the fact that they have no other juices, if you know what I mean."

Robyn: "Could they somehow harvest the juices, if they want to have kids."

Andrea: "No, Robyn (hint of smug condescension, regarding my obvious lack of vampire knowledge) they cannot."

Ben: "Then why does stabbing a vampire in the heart kill him/her (but let's be honest, usually him) if it isn't a blood thing."

Andrea: "If you, say, cut a vampire in half, the blood they drank goes everywhere. It's food. It's not, like, running through their veins."

Ben: "What about vampire IVF?"

Hysterical laughter. Even we realize, at a point, that our dicussions are stupid.

Have a good Monday.