Islands in the Stream

First of all: thank you, thank you to all of you who have been nicely reminding me in person, on Twitter and on my Facebook wall that I need to post a new blog.  I appreciate the fact that anyone reads this at all, much less is actually missing my posts. Seriously. So flattered. I can’t even.

And I have absolutely no good excuse for not posting in 3+ months. I’ve been spending a lot of my free time writing fiction, mainly practicing dialogue, and I guess that just took the spot of my usual blog writing time. So sorry about that.

Now, on to the story telling:

It’s almost Halloween, a holiday I pretty much loathe because I just hate that it’s getting colder, and I don’t particularly like spiders or witches or creepy anything. But I do like dressing up in costumes. You might recall last year when I was a pretty bad-ass Katniss and John was my perfect Peeta, complete with the hand-made spear I fashioned him out of some paper towel rolls and duct tape.

Everlark costumes: See how cute and deadly we are?

See how cute and deadly we are?

So lately John’s been growing a beard, and it got me thinking that maybe this year we could dress up as Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. See, last Winter, on one of those nights when we were entertaining ourselves with a bottle of bourbon and we had Pandora on some strange classic country shuffle (sometimes it just feels necessary to listen to classic country when you drink bourbon; other times Justin Timberlake is called for), we happened to hear Kenny and Dolly sing their classic duet, “Islands in the Stream.”

And then, surely not from the influence of all that bourbon (ahem), we somehow became convinced that the song was written to describe our love for each other. After listening to the song several times in a row, we also became convinced that we needed to choreograph a dance routine to commemorate its perfection. Yeah, I know. More than you ever wanted to know about what John and I do in our free time. I can assure you I am always way more enthusiastic about these ideas than him. But he’s a really good sport. Obviously, since he’s still here 21 years later.

For real. 21 years. We were talking about this just the other night. I was reading something on the subject of love at first sight, and I asked John, “When did you know that there was something between us or that there was some potential something? Did you have a moment?”

In my own head, I was answering the question for myself: it was very clearly the night in September, 1991 when a group of us was hanging out in the back parking lot of LCH, trying to decide where to go that Friday night. Bored with the indecision, I wandered away from the group and hopped up on the concrete footer of the new Field House under construction at that time. I began to walk along the footer, and when I looked up I saw that John Noll was doing the same thing in the opposite direction. When our footsteps met, we stopped and exchanged a few words and then we passed each other and continued on our balance beam walk along the ledge. And although I can’t remember a single word of that brief conversation, I knew, without a doubt, at that moment, that I would be with John and that it would be forever.

So when I asked John the other night, “When did you know?” I wasn’t really that surprised, that without me saying a word about my own moment, he replied, “Do you remember that night when we walked on the concrete of the field house?”

So yeah. As Kenny and Dolly would say, “We start and end as one, in love forever…”

I don’t even care if we don’t get to perform the dance routine; I just think we need to be Kenny and Dolly for Halloween.

Vote here if you agree. (I’m kidding. I only need one vote, and it’s going to take another bottle of bourbon to convince him to dress as Kenny Rogers, I think.)

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