Cheese or Howard Jones?

The phrase that will live in infamy all the days of my life, "And you fell for that?!" were uttered to me today by Maya, H's 8 year old daughter. See... these girls know better than to take Daddy at face value. They are wise to his pranks and ability to surprise even the most jaded. I, on the other hand... not so much.

A little background for the masses... When I was 2 1/2 years old, my mother was in a very serious car accident, that put her in the hospital for over a month. My father spent every minute he could by her side, so me, my sister and brother were being cared for by our grandparents, aunt, uncles, church folks that would stop by. My memory of that time in my life is far from clear - just blips of moments, images, sort of like random photographs in my mind, but I do remember being the littlest body in a forest of grown up legs.

My sister recalls my grandmother feeding me cheese whenever I got upset, to the extent that it became a warning beacon in my house. I would call from rooms away - CHEEEEEEEEESE! To this day, I will come home from the grocery store with 3 or 4 different kinds of cheese and wonder to myself what is upsetting me.

This information will come in handy shortly. Please keep reading.

A few weeks ago I discovered in my job search for talent buying positions, that Howard Jones was coming to the YMCA Boulton Center in Bay Shore, NY just 2 days after my sister's birthday. It is a small auditorium of around 300 seats - couldn't be a bad seat in the house and Ho Jo is one of the few musicians from the 80s my sister knows the name of and actually LIKES (no accounting for her dislike of 80s music). Unfortunately, Seester had to work and after some discussion with H, decided that the money for tickets would be better used toward the Joan Osborne concert coming up just after MY birthday (it is all about me, you know).

This past week, H and I were out to dinner and I was paging through one of LI's entertainment mags and on the front page was Ho Jo himself. The picture prompted another discussion about the availability of tickets and some research. There were 2 tickets left, but they were on opposite sides of the auditorium - not quite a Celestine moment. So, I let it go. No HoJo for us... *sigh*

The next day by IM, H asked me if we had anything planned for Friday night. Without the concert, the answer was a defeated 'no'. He informed me that he had come across some tickets to a seminar on the Cheeses of the Ancient World. H is a professor. Universities have weird seminars like this (usually attended by students who are required to attend for a class). I love cheese, I love food and I love to learn about it too, soooo... why not?! Sure! Sounds like fun!!! I thought nothing of his evading my questions with his absence of answers... he does that all the time, especially when we're IMing and especially when he's at work.

The night before, I put something on my FB status about looking forward to the cheese seminar. Again, I should have known something was up when his comment to it was 'I'm sooo excited!'. OK... I know *I* love cheese, but why is HE so excited about it? He's funny like that sometimes. Even Little J commented about how much fun I was going to have in a room full of cheese!

It's now Friday night, and he is running late (try to pry this man away from his code... just try it!) and I'm taking my time. It's a cheese seminar. No big hurry because these things never start on time and if we miss the first 5 minutes of where cheese comes from, I'm not going to have an aneurism over it. In the car, he hands me a piece of paper and tells me these are the tickets, to put them somewhere safe. No problem, I stick them in between the sun visor and the roof of the car (and promptly forget all about it - I realize only now as I'm writing this that it didn't occur to me that we left the car without it!) We've decided to have dinner at a thai restaurant - Galanga, I recommend it - very yummy! He even pointed it out as we drove by it to the parking lot.

As we walk to the restaurant, we round the corner from the parking lot, and there is the Boulton Center marquee that says 'HOWARD JONES FRIDAY NIGHT'. I exclaim, 'WE'RE RIGHT BY THE BOULTON CENTER!!! MAYBE IT'S A CELESTINE MOMENT AND THERE ARE STILL TICKETS!!!!' I stop to look at the playbill outside and cast a forlorn look at the 'sold out' sign posted across tonight's show and shuffle on toward the restaurant.

We sit down in the restaurant and H is being pushy. He suggests a specific page that I focus my decision on. No shock here that I completely ignore him and browse the other pages. H then informs me that he wants to be on the road by 7:45. It's 7:20 and we haven't ordered yet. I laugh at him. Friday night and you want to rush the kitchen - RIIIIIGHT! "You look very nice tonight by the way." That is pretty random, but I'm starting to get a little annoyed so I'm playing it cool. I do not look up from the local magazine I picked up on the way in, "Thank you".

The food comes out and H plows through it. When H is hungry, you keep all fingers and toes away just in case he mistakes one for food, but he DEVOURS his food. Mine is covered in a very tasty, VERY HOT sauce - after harrassing the waiter about the whereabouts of our food, it has JUST come out of the kitchen and clearly, just come off the stove. I CAN'T eat it quickly and I really don't want to. I am still of the mindset that if I miss the first few minutes of the seminar - IF it starts on time, I am not rushing through dinner to get there on time. It is tasty, I am hungry and I am going to enjoy it.

H, on the other hand, has cleaned his plate, received and paid for the check, and is now watching - nearly hovering over - every bite I take. At one point, he even says, "You know, you can leave that, it's okay" WHAT THE FUCK! "H... it's cheese... relax. These things never start on time. I am hungry, I haven't eaten, my food is hot and I want to eat it. You're really starting to piss me off." H does not back down. He continues to stare me down, repeating, "We really need to go" With venom seething through my teeth, I look at him and say, "Is this how it's going to be? You're going to ruin my Friday night???" He is SMILING which pisses me off even MORE and says 'Yup!'

I drop my fork with a loud clank on the plate, grab my purse and walk out. I am so mad, I pull an Event Manager and weave through foot traffic on the sidewalk to get away from H and get to the car. I have committed myself to staying in the car when we arrive at this stupid CHEESE seminar, I am not going to spend the night fighting back how angry I am in front of a room full of strangers! I hear H calling my name from a few paces behind me, when he manages to catch up to me right in front of the last bank of doors to the theater.

H gives me a shove toward the door and says, "Kristin, you're not going to a cheese seminar, you're going to the Howard Jones concert." I am full of adrenaline because I'm mad and I do not believe him. He pushes me into the lobby where he gives the woman a piece of paper. I only vaguely remember hearing her tell us to enjoy the show, because my ears are still filled with pissed off. It is only when I see H's face, see that he has tears in his eyes and that he is laughing that I realize that we are, in fact, at the Boulton Center to see Howard Jones.

I am trying desperately to let go of the adrenaline so that I can show him how special it is to me for him to have surprised me like this, but my ego is in the way and all I can muster is the smile that I can't hide. He laughs and enjoys my reaction, beaming with pride that his surprise was successful. For the next 20 minutes, as I sit in row 7, looking at the stage that is hardly any distance at all from where we are, there is an exchange of awkward glances and giggles as I let go of how angry I was. How can I be angry at this point!!! The man I love has just totally hood-winked me, surprised me with the most AWESOME surprise anyone has ever given me, and also given me one of the most awesome GIFTS I have ever gotten. What's to be mad about?!!!

With Dr. Litowitz in my head, I try to decipher why the anger didn't instantly melt away and turn into the thrill H deserved for what he did. I realized... no one has ever done something like this for me before... I am the one that gives the gifts that people aren't expecting but have been telling me they have wanted! My roommate back in Philly, the artsy fartsy chick, constantly talked about wishing she had a membership to the museums of Philadelphia. For Christmas that year, though it was about $40 more than I had budgeted to spend on her, I knew she would really enjoy it and got her the membership. Just days before his birthday, H told me that a pair of 4s in poker are known as sailboats. So, his birthday cake had a pair of 4 of hearts with sailboats on them. But nobody ever does this stuff for me!!! Til now...

Next Thursday marks 1 year from the day in 2008 when H and I spoke for the first time. I have learned a lot in this year - how much more I have to give, how important the words 'I love you' REALLY are, and that there is someone out there who is strong enough to tell me when I'm full of shit, but to say it nicely, sensitive enough to show me how much he loves me and WANT me to know, and trusts me enough to let me tell him when he's full of shit without getting mad.

Now... off to find a cheese seminar... "And you fell for that?!"