Soundtrack Selection: It's Raining Men by the Weather Girls
He's the man of my life. I met him when I was 13 when we graded each others quizzes in Ms. Buffington's 8th Grade Honors English Class and he's been there ever since. If there was ever a person in this world who got me, it would be David. Our inexplicable ability to understand each other proves to me that any other man in my life will always have to share the limelight with him (and boy does David like the limelight...and costumes).
In our early years, we shared experiences (no not those kind of experiences) that only he and I would appreciate. He was with me when we attempted to roll our high school history teacher's house (do kids even do that anymore) just so we could chicken out after buying 24 rolls of toilet paper. He was there when I wore my mickey mouse pajamas on prom night and was actually happy they covered me from head to toe. And I was with him the first time we threw a party when his parents were out of town...when a little "get-together with a few friends" turned into an all-out epic high school event.
This ridiculous behavior hasn't changed over the years. We always seem to find ourselves in situations that would be best-suited for SNL skits (of which we can quote endlessly). Most recently, he forced me to buy a black and florescent green unitard with gold polk-a-dots and insisted I wear it out to the bars (I did nothing of the sort). And he was there the time I drove my first cab (pushing it out of the snow beside our craptastic driver). These are the hopelessly, lame things we do together...things that have turned into some of the best memories of our lives.
I've come to find that I'm not the only single gal with a man in my life whose apartment is cleaner and more stylish than mine and who appreciates a good unitard. Many women, find that these are the men who will be there for us for the rest of our lives and would actually prefer NOT to have sex with us!
No, they're not going to be the fathers to our test tube babies (because despite what those horrible romantic comedies claim, that's just weird)! They're not the ones we turn to when we need the garbage disposal cleaned out or a cockroach killed (this isn't a stereotype...David's obsessive issues with cleanliness make him helpless for these chores). But they are the ones who we can turn to no matter how many other men (or women) come and go in our lives. They are true friends, some of whom will drive 20 miles to sleep in the house with you when you hear a noise in the middle of the night (well, JJ might not do this but he'd bitch at Lisa until she could do nothing else but fall asleep from sheer exhaustion).
No matter what anyone says (and you know who I mean when I say "anyone"), you are amazing! And no matter how many times our husbands/partners have to endure us singing "Springtime for Hitler" at the top of our lungs on a Saturday night (just ask Louis), honey...til death!
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