(A quick note: I couldn't figure out how to explain to my niece, who is three, about immigration so I said, "Guess what!!! Auntie got a letter that says Uncle (Xavier) can come and live here!" and she was thrilled. So now when I am on the phone to my sister and sometimes talk to my niece, she asks me, "Are you at Uncle (Xavier's) house to pick him up?" which, I guess, is toddler-speak for, "So, how's the whole immigration thing going?" *grin*)
Well, today is our fourth anniversary and I am sitting here wearing a Liverpool/Budweiser parody shirt and tracksuit bottoms, working with Xavier (over the internet) on a "Pretty Please Can We Have The Visa Interview When Hoopla is in the U.K." letter for the embassy. It sure beats dinner and a movie, I can tell you! *sigh*
We first met in person four years ago on this date. My sister and I were late arriving at the aiport to pick Xavier up, and I first saw him as he was riding down an escalator. I got about a thousand times more nervous than I already was and kept painfully elbowing and whispering to my sister (probably along the lines of, "Oh my god, there he is, oh my god, what do I do, oh my god, oh my god, that's him") and somehow eventually quietly shouting his name in his general direction. He now claims he saw us first, but when I was calling his name, he was nervously looking at any random object but us. We were blocking the bottom of the escalator so he had no choice but to be confronted with us in the end. We hugged nervously - by "hugged", I mean put your hands on the other person's back for no longer than one second while trying not to touch any other part of your body together and, in the process, manage to knock the other person's glasses off, get a wad of their hair in your mouth momentarily, and try to keep your bag on your shoulder, but end up dropping it nearly off your arm. I don't remember what we said exactly as it was all a blur at the time and still is. The only thing I can remember is I kept saying, "It's YOU!" and pointing, over and over again, probably for the first hour, and commenting, "You really DO have purple Doc Martens!" and being mind-numbingly nervous (and overjoyed!) and just giggling and over-analyzing my every move for the first three days. We went to find his baggage and were alone for the first time, and I remember, like, staring intently at the baggage carousel (my eyes probably burned a hole in it) and making extremely boring, half giggled comments about the bags. We got back to my house and drank some vodka and strawberry soda ('cause I am classy, you see) and sat on the back porch and talked about who knows what. Luckily, we had my super-extroverted sister as a distraction from akward silences. After a while, we all went to bed and I could hardly sleep all night, and woke up at 4:30am and went out to the living room where my sister was sleeping on the sofa and woke her up and babbled nervously at her until Xavier got up the courage to venture out from his room at about 9am.
So anyway, four years on, we are getting married and he's moving to America, and we stare at immigration forms instead of baggage carousels, and it will soon become a case of, "YOU DO REALIZE YOU LEFT YOUR DOC MARTENS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY, YOU KNOW!" We've waited a long time to be real people... *grin*
- Hoopla
