Today seems like a good day to tell the tale of our romance. Not the entire thing, because it’s kind of long and I’m kind of lazy, but a start. 

A Story About Love
Part I: Fireworks

B. and I met on the Fourth of July 2006. I was 15 and he was a day away from turning 19, so let’s just say he was 19. This was really more like the day he met me, because if the truth be told, then I must admit I’d been nursing a secret crush on him since August 2004. 

Back in ’04, I was a freshman and he was a senior at the same high school. I was a nobody, but B. was high-profile, so I knew exactly who he was. He played varsity baseball, was editor of the school newspaper, and very well-known for being gorgeous and intelligent.

Time went on, as it tends to do, B. went to college, and I developed crushes on boys who actually knew I existed. One such crush was a young man whom I shall dub, “Stiva,” to protect his anonymity. I met Stiva through mutual friends toward the end of my sophomore year and fell smitten fast. Stiva was older than me and back home for the summer after his first year of college. He had graduated with B. the year before, but I had no idea they were friends.

By the time Fourth of July came around in 2006, Stiva and I were definitely dating, but not a couple. Our group of friends had a party that evening, and Stiva said he was going to bring along one of his other friends – someone I’d never met. I impatiently awaited their arrival to the party, but honestly didn’t give much thought to the mystery man Stiva was bringing along. When they got there and B. was the one to climb out of Stiva’s Jeep, I was surprised. When Stiva said, “Whitney this is B.,” I said, “I know.” So polite, you guys, and not at all like a stalker. If you’d given me 1,000 guesses about who would show up to the party that night, B. would not have been one of them.

However, as I already said, I was smitten with Stiva and my eyes were only for him. That night, under the fireworks, I sat between Stiva and B., giddy with girlish infatuation and sure I was sitting next to the man I was going to marry. If ever it were possible to be so right and so wrong at the same time, it was then and there: July 4, 2006.

The Liebster Award is something like Whose Line Is It Anyway?: Everything’s made up and the points don’t matter. My cousin Rachel nominated me after being nominated herself, and I decided to pay it forward, too. It works like this:

Share 11 random facts about yourself
Answer 11 questions given by the person who nominated you
Nominate new bloggers to pass it on
Write 11 question for those bloggers to answer

11 Random Facts:
1. (According to B.) I’m not as afraid of wild animals as I should be.
2. If I ever get pregnant, I don’t want to learn the baby’s gender beforehand. Surprises of that magnitude are such a rarity in life, and I want to savor it.
3. I still haven’t switched to a PA driver’s license because I can’t bring myself to surrender my CA license. If they’d just let me keep my CA license with its cute little bear and Golden Gate bridge, I probably would have done it a year ago.
4. I’ve never liked my name, but I’ve also never been able to think of an alternative name that “fits” me better. Then someone suggested I seem like a Sydney, and he was right. I could definitely be a Sydney. If I wasn’t such a Whitney.
5. Yang is my favorite Grey’s Anatomy doctor.
6. I take my coffee with half & half and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
7. One of the biggest crushes I’ve ever had was on a teacher. Everyone knew, and I’m sure he  probably did, too. It’s so embarrassing to think about now.
8. My favorite genre of both books and movies is historical fiction.
9. Earth is on an hourglass, and I hate that I won’t know how the world ends.
10. I kick ass at writing in-class/timed essays. To test this theory, I pointedly refused to study for the analytical writing section of the GRE.
11. I do my best writing when I’m angry.

11 Questions from Rachel: 
1. What is your favorite book of all time – the book you can read over and over again?
Lolita. Lo-lee-ta. Lo. Lee. Ta.

2. Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?
Dark chocolate always

3. If you had to listen to one song on repeat for an entire day which song would you choose?
This is a nightmare to even imagine. I prefer silence and if I had to pick one song to listen to ad nauseam, I’d probably stab my eardrums with Q-tips. That said, I’d pick “Nowadays/Hot Honey Rag” from the Chicago soundtrack. I love Chicago. It’s my go-to wedding planning inspiration music.

4. What is your preferred species of flower?
Oriental hybrid lilies, especially the Stargazer, which is of course incredibly toxic to cats

5. If you could live in any city in the United States (you have a job that covers the expenses, blah, blah blah) where would you live?
Well, it’s hard to say because I haven’t been to all the cities, you know? Of the cities I have been to my top three choices are Berkeley, NYC, and Philly, and of those three, Philadelphia wins over NYC by a smidgeon. I have a feeling I’ll really love Boston when I go there, though.

6. What countries make your top 5 travel wish list?
In no particular order: Russia, Spain, France, Morocco, and India

7. What has been your favorite age/year so far? Why?
2012/21-22. It’s been the healthiest, happiest, most adventurous year of my life.

8. What is the best advice you were ever given?
Not everyone deserves forgiveness and sometimes it’s perfectly healthy just to say, “Fuck you,” before moving on.

9. Do you have any special or unique skills? Elaborate.
I am a veritable fount of trivia. I have useless information to proffer for any situation.

10. Be honest, are you going to see the midnight showing of Star Trek in May?
Definitely. Zachary Quinto with those Vulcan ears and eyebrows being so wryly logical gets me all hot and… off the point. 

11. Finish this sentence: “Not a day goes by when I don’t think about _______ .”
college.

11 Questions for My Nominees:
1. American Apparel or Urban Outfitters or H&M?
2. You’ve been magically gifted with all the skills you need for your dream career. What is it?
3. What is the last book you read and absolutely hated?
4. What is your biggest tangible fear (i.e. spiders, needles, etc.)?
5. What would have you chosen if you could have named yourself?
6. Who is your favorite TV character of all time?
7. What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve eaten?
8. To which Hogwarts House do you belong?
9. Harvard or Yale? Stanford or Berkeley?
10. Would you rather eat a live cricket or a fresh sea urchin?
11. Capital punishment: yea or nay? 

I nominate:
Julia at Eating Stories Like Grapes
Jessie at Growing Up Grima
Stephanie at Listful Thinking

Behold: The Most FAQs.

Are you having a church wedding?
Come on, this must be a joke, right? No, of course we are not getting married in a church, nor will our officiant be religious. Our wedding is a celebration the new family B. and I are creating, and thusly will be one that honors our beliefs, or as the case may be, lack thereof.

Who is walking you down the aisle?
This question always surprises me. I’m not offended by it, but it’s not something I would ask someone else because I think it has the potential to be offensive or awkward. Anyway, no one is walking me down the aisle. Just please, I can walk myself down an aisle, thanks.

How many bridesmaids will you have?
Just a Maid of Honor and a bridesman. I asked my bff Scooter if he wanted to be called my Best Man or my bridesman, and he made a smart ass remark along the lines of, “Well, I’ll really have to think about that. How many opportunities will I have to be called a bridesman?” Well then, didn’t he just screw himself? Now I pretty much have to call him my bridesman. We have such a loving relationship, he and I.

Ok, so, I have no earthly idea how his didn’t come about sooner, but my family is now one person bigger! In June, I mentioned my aunt and uncle were expecting their second child. A younger sibling for Mason, another cousin for me. This little person, who joined our family on December 20th, is Brady. I am over-the-moon that he’s here, grateful that he’s healthy, and ecstatic that he’s ours to love. It’s wonderful, joyful news for everyone; for me, it’s also sorrowful. I wasn’t there. I’m still not there. It wasn’t until my mom said, “I’m going to the hospital to see them after work,” and I bitterly rejoined, “Lucky you,” that I fully cognized that it happened without me. I think I had a subconscious delusion that he wouldn’t come until I could be there, or that I’d catch a red-eye flight and arrive just in time. So I cried, both because I was happy for their new family of four, and because I so desperately wanted to be there but couldn’t. I love Mason quite literally beyond the terminus of my vocabulary. I loved him from the very moment I found out he existed: before I knew he was a he, before I knew his name, before I heard his voice, before I saw his blue eyes. When Mason was born, I held him swaddled in my arms in his newborn cap and receiving blanket, looked at him, and thought, “So, you’re the one I’ve loved all along.” That’s a moment that we will always have, and I will always cherish, even if he doesn’t remember it. On the 12th, I will fly into SFO. I know that on that day, I will hold Brady and fall just as in love with him as I am with Mason, but I can’t help but wish that my first time seeing his face and hearing his voice wasn’t in pictures and videos.

One thing B. and I learned from being in a long distance relationship for two and a half years: it’s hard to be the one who stays; it’s harder to be the one who goes. Today marks one year since I moved from California to Philadelphia, and each of those days has come with a choice: to stay or to go. Every day I reenlist, choosing to continue living the life I’ve made in Philadelphia with the man I love, and I know it’s the right choice, but that doesn’t make is less heartrending that I’m also the one who goes; the one who left California and the now two little boys I love. 

Well, that’s depressing. I’m no closer to paying off my student loans than I am to strapping a jetpack to my back and rocketing to the moon. Upon full perusal of this list, I think I’m actually closer to achieving a lunar landing than most of the things on there. What was I thinking? I’m quite aspirational, apparently. I’ll continue progressing slowly to the endgame of my twenties, but in the meantime, I made a few resolutions for 2013:

1. Adopt a pescetarian diet — This one has been a long time coming, really. Aside from the fact that I don’t really enjoy meat, my conscience isn’t especially comfortable with eating animals. If I actually had to watch a cow, pig, chicken, etc. be slaughtered for me to eat, I am 99% certain I would beg to spare its life. As for seafood, well, I’m not convinced that fish and shrimp have complex enough brains and nervous systems to call for my abstention from eating them. We can also call a spade a spade: sushi and Thai are my favorite foods and I don’t see that changing any time soon.

2. Buckle down on my studies — Namely: trigonometry, Russian, and photography. I already understand the basics of all three subjects, so this one is more about pushing myself to learn more than I already know. Trig. will be very necessary for the post-bac curriculum, and since it’s relevant to my academic interests, it has priority. Russian and photography are simply my avocations, but it’s important to me to continue to cultivate those skills because they are great intellectual outlets.

3. Be a better person — Not because I don’t think I’m a good person, but because I think everyone has room for betterment.

Mr. Ocholoco is enroute to Mississippi to visit his family, and I’m in Philly holding down the fort with our creatures. I won’t even pretend B. leaving didn’t come with all manner of crying and self-pity. Literally everyone I know in Philadelphia is out of town and B. doesn’t return until New Year’s Eve, so, you know… call me and such. I’ll just be blasting Justin Timberlake, watching all the TV shows and movies B. hates, and eating oatmeal raisin cookies by the dozen.

Happy Belated Holidays. With love,
Mr. Bobby Ocholoco III, Esq. and Ms. Whitney J.M.

She’s not the only one being a terrorist, though. Sebastian found himself locked in a closet by an annoyed B. at 5am because he wouldn’t shut up. He was carrying on like a banshee with his meowing. He’s such a talker, and usually it’s endearing, but not nonstop at 5am.

Almost can’t believe there’s only two weeks until Christmas. Where is the snow? When I moved here, it was with some seriously romantic notions of white winters, but so far I haven’t seen much snow at all. Is it too much to ask for enough snow to build a snowman or go sledding at the park?

Life is boring lately – not much else to report. Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays.

I’m feeling homesick for the Bay Area. Naturally, this means browsing through pictures of home and listening to songs about California. Yes, I have a California playlist and no, I don’t have any shame about it.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and even though no one asked, I’ll tell you why: It’s one of the few major holidays that is completely secular. (This blog has been profusely secular lately, hasn’t it? No apologies.) I can’t tell you how much it grates on me when I hear things like, “Jesus is the reason for the season!” or “Keep Christ in Christmas!” I so completely could not care less about Jesus Christ, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like bringing a spider-infested fire hazard into my house, snowy nights, or decorating with pretty lights. But Thanksgiving. Oh, Thanksgiving. It’s all the tradition and celebration with absolutely none of the annoying genuflection (physical and otherwise).

I wrote a list of things I am thankful for this year:
1. Snuggling up with NoeCat and Sebastiano to keep them warm
2. Hazelnut coffee and pumpkin bread
3. Plenty of peace and quiet for reading good books
4. New friends here in Philadelphia (especially thankful for this one)
5. My rapist being in jail where he can’t harm anyone else (and this one)
6. My favorite little cousin and the new one on the way
7. President Obama’s reelection
8. Beautiful autumn weather and foliage here in Philadelphia
9. My oldest friends, my family, and my wonderful fiancé

“I’m going to timezone terrorize* my bff because it’s his first presidential election.”
And I was glad we understood each other so well.
*Timezone terrorist: an asshole (me) who sends 7AM EST text messages to people (my friends & family) on the west coast.

“Thank God all the sensible voters that Obama won, but this nation is, as it has always been, a secular one.”
So I followed the Freedom From Religion Foundation’s suggestion and wrote a letter to The Big O asking him to refrain from taking a nonsecular Oath of Office at his inauguration next January. And frankly, if you’re also fatigued by the politicization of religion, then you should, too.

Nothing spectacular, but a few decent shots. Welcome to West Philly.

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