It was a late, cold, December night in 1992 when I met my architect. He stumbled out of his college bedroom after his roommate rudely pounded on his door loudly yelling, “Get up Rizzolo!!” He had on an RWU architecture t-shirt and red sweatpants pushed up to his knees. He groggily said hello while trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes, and in an instant I knew that he would be in my life forever. How in my life? In what form? Friend? Husband? Guy I used to be roommates with and always wonder how he's doing? I didn’t know. I just knew that this moment was significant and thought “damn, this guy is really cute.”
Fast forward… we moved in together, lived with Jon, then lived with Scott, had a mad water fight, graduated from college, kissed, moved to Providence, got real jobs, got a cat, got another cat, ate pizza every Friday night, bought a house in Barrington, started my own design business, got a dog, threw dinner parties, drank wine, played croquet, had a baby boy, played, laughed, watched Tate grow, vacationed in Alaska, got pregnant, went back to Alaska, had a baby girl, cheered at t-ball, drank more wine, looked at our house and said, “It’s too small, what are we going to do?”
This is what we did…
Yes! I made the inaugural blog post!
ReplyDeleteRUDELY!!!??? I think you need to append you blog to tell everyone how you two conspired against me ......with my own weaponry. You know, I might be partially responsible for you two getting closer...hmmmm...next kid, boy or girl, should be named Jonathan, (how about a cat at least, okay I will settle for a chairr on the back porch with my name on it). Glad to hear you are progressing with the house. Keep us updated and good luck!!!
ReplyDeleteOK. OK, Jon... a chair on the back porch with your name on it. You got it - as you are totally responsible for all this.
ReplyDelete