The Aggie. Oh how lucky I am. I know he takes a lot of shit on here -- mostly because he is one of my favorite topics to blog about. But I want you all to know that there is ONE person in this world that would do anything for. He's a great man. A smart, funny man. And I wish I told him that mroe often. Come and travel with me as I answer a whole bunch of questions about our relationship. Apologies in advance to the shit he is about to endure.
What are your middle names?
Amanda is mine and his is Royster T. Lowbottoms
How long have you been together?
Five years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
About six months. God, we hated each other's guts. We'd worked for the same newspaper in Georgia the entire time. I thought he was an ass and he thought I was snooty. One night he asked me to come over for pizza and wine. Classsssssy. Turned out he was a nice guy and I was smitten almost immediately.
Who asked whom out?
There was no asking out so much as drunken making out followed by awkward silence followed by more drunken making out followed by more awkward silence followed by other drunken naught activities. Eventually we cut out the awkward silence part and skipped to the drunken fooling around.
How old are each of you?
I'm 28 and he's 33. Or – as our good friend that's the same age as me said: "Hey when you were in college, I was in elementary school." Dirty old man.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
Neither really. Sadly we are all scattered to the wind.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Work stuff. The Aggie owns his own business and because we are a small startup company, we both pitch in and work a lot of hours. Sometimes it so tiring and draining that I think we will not make it because one of us is going to go to jail for murder. That's not to say we don't work together well, because we do. We are a GREAT team, but sometimes being partners professionally needs to be separate from partners personally. There are times when I want to scream GET A FUCKING SECRETARY WHO IS PAID TAKE YOUR SHIT. Sometimes he wants to yell OH MY GOD, YOU ARE ONE CRAZY CONTROLLING NAG. There has to be a conscious effort to separate those emotions from each other. The person we are when we work together on projects has to be objective and honest. This is particularly hard when you need your spouse to just give encouragement or positive reinforcement. I have yet to figure out how to say THAT PROJECT YOU'VE BLED AND WEPT OVER FOR SIX STRAIGHT DAYS LOOKS LIKE SHIT without the "looks like shit" part.
Did you go to the same school?
Nope. He grew up in Saudi Arabia and grew up in Southwest Mississippi. He went to Lehigh University and then Texas A&M. I attended community college and then the University of Southern Mississippi.
Are you from the same hometown?
This is where we are so very different. I am still connected and always will be to the town in which I was reared. My parents are there and so are a lot of my cousins and their families. I was raised to be incredibly close to my extended family and the Aggie was NOT. He can't even tell you some of his first cousin's names.
Who is smarter?
He's waaaaay smarter than me. He's like fucking Rain Man. He can remember statistics and numbers and dates and books he read in second grade. He is the one person that can really challenge me and keep me on my toes. Every day he teaches me something new.
I, on the other hand, bring the common sense and people skills to the mix. Oh! And I also bring vast knowledge of the British Monarchy, Disney villains and modern music. When we are paired together to play Trivial Pursuit we are unbeatable.
Who is the most sensitive?
THE AGGIE. Jesus! If I only had a nickel for every time I said/did/wrote something that would hurt his feelings. We are so incredibly opposite when it comes to this. I rarely if ever get my feelings hurt. I roll with the punches and I dish it out so I'm used to taking it. I think this goes back to a self-defense system that built up over many years of being That Strange Fat Girl With The Curly Hair And Glasses. (Which is actually my legal middle name.)
Who has the craziest exes?
Shitting Christ this is an easy one. HIM. HIM. HIM. Not a month after I had moved to Texas to I "bumped" into is most recent ex-girlfriend. From here on out, for purposes of this story, we'll call her Crazy Pills.
Well, I had to go into work one evening at about 3 p.m. and as I was leaving I noticed a car pull up into our driveway. Out jumps this really, really ugly redheaded girl wearing a denim miniskirt and Ug boots. Her arms are filled with all kind of gifts – balloons, flowers, t-shirts etc. In the middle of saying goodbye to me, the Aggie stopped abruptly and his eyes fixed on the girl.
Now to say that she flung herself to the ground and started kissing the earth beneath his feet would just be cruel to the dirt, especially after all the therapy it need to recover. So I won't go into details, but you can use imagination. Needless to say, she went bat shit crazy screaming about how lucky she was to have him back and that things could pick up where they left off. And oh my god she couldn't wait to have babies for him! BABIES! Life would be so wonderful.
Meanwhile, there I stand watching the Aggie SHIT IS FUCKING PANTS. As soon as Crazy Pills stopped to catch her breath, the Aggie took a step back and motioned toward me. Then he uttered the words that would launch a thousand tears: "Crazy Pills, meet my fiancée. We're getting married in March."
One week later, the Aggie got an email from Crazy Pills. It took some searching through a billion of so old emails, but I was able to locate the actual e-mail she sent. And let me tell you, I am soooo happy I didn’t delete it after the Aggie sent it to me. For the first time EVER I would like print that missive in its entirety. Be warned, the level of Crazy in the following text is 1) unaltered and 2) unmatched. (Only the names and actual email addresses have been changed.)
To this she responded: “Hey, did you hear that So-and-So are getting married. The wedding is in June. We should go.”
What’s that I hear? Yeah, it’s the clock and its going COO-COO COO-COO.
I wish this story ends here, but it doesn’t. Sometime when I’m drinking vodka straight from the bottle I’ll have to tell you about the time we ran into her at a restaurant and a knife fell out of her purse. I know, wrong of me to tease but I feel as though I should move on for now. Clearly, I’ve said enough to secure the fact that his exes make up the entire city council of Crazy Town.
Who has the worst temper?
One time, there was this football game on television, and he behaved so poorly that I considered divorce.
Who does the cooking?
Both of us.
Who is the neat-freak?
Sweet baby Jesus. If only one of were neat. Not even a neat-freak. Just neat. That would be heaven. But we’re not and if you don’t hear from us for more than two days you should come check the house to make sure we’ve not died in a pile of our own filth and the dogs are eating our corpses.
Who is more stubborn?
We both are. He’s got his dad in him and I’ve got my mother in me.
Who hogs the bed?
Sonny the Pug.
Who wakes up earlier?
The Aggie. Usually because Ripken has slipped his head silently under the covers and sticks his freezing nose into the Aggie’s asscrack. TIME TO WAKE UP AND EAT/PLAY/ENTERTAIN!
Where was your first date?
His apartment. Pizza and wine.
Who is more jealous?
Me.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well… it would have happened a lot sooner if I didn’t insist on ending every kiss with the caveat “We’re just friends. I don’t want a serious boyfriend.”
Who eats more?
We are in Weight Watchers because of our mutual love of food.
Who does the laundry?
The Aggie. He is so good to me.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. The Aggie will argue this, but I simply call SCOREBOARD.
Who drives when you are together?
He does. Because he’s the BEDIT. BEST DAMN DRIVER IN TEXAS. It’s a self-proclaimed title.
----------
What are your middle names?
Amanda is mine and his is Royster T. Lowbottoms
How long have you been together?Five years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating?
About six months. God, we hated each other's guts. We'd worked for the same newspaper in Georgia the entire time. I thought he was an ass and he thought I was snooty. One night he asked me to come over for pizza and wine. Classsssssy. Turned out he was a nice guy and I was smitten almost immediately.
Who asked whom out?
There was no asking out so much as drunken making out followed by awkward silence followed by more drunken making out followed by more awkward silence followed by other drunken naught activities. Eventually we cut out the awkward silence part and skipped to the drunken fooling around.
How old are each of you?
I'm 28 and he's 33. Or – as our good friend that's the same age as me said: "Hey when you were in college, I was in elementary school." Dirty old man.
Whose siblings do you see the most?
Neither really. Sadly we are all scattered to the wind.
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
Work stuff. The Aggie owns his own business and because we are a small startup company, we both pitch in and work a lot of hours. Sometimes it so tiring and draining that I think we will not make it because one of us is going to go to jail for murder. That's not to say we don't work together well, because we do. We are a GREAT team, but sometimes being partners professionally needs to be separate from partners personally. There are times when I want to scream GET A FUCKING SECRETARY WHO IS PAID TAKE YOUR SHIT. Sometimes he wants to yell OH MY GOD, YOU ARE ONE CRAZY CONTROLLING NAG. There has to be a conscious effort to separate those emotions from each other. The person we are when we work together on projects has to be objective and honest. This is particularly hard when you need your spouse to just give encouragement or positive reinforcement. I have yet to figure out how to say THAT PROJECT YOU'VE BLED AND WEPT OVER FOR SIX STRAIGHT DAYS LOOKS LIKE SHIT without the "looks like shit" part.
Did you go to the same school?
Nope. He grew up in Saudi Arabia and grew up in Southwest Mississippi. He went to Lehigh University and then Texas A&M. I attended community college and then the University of Southern Mississippi.
Are you from the same hometown?
This is where we are so very different. I am still connected and always will be to the town in which I was reared. My parents are there and so are a lot of my cousins and their families. I was raised to be incredibly close to my extended family and the Aggie was NOT. He can't even tell you some of his first cousin's names.
Who is smarter?
He's waaaaay smarter than me. He's like fucking Rain Man. He can remember statistics and numbers and dates and books he read in second grade. He is the one person that can really challenge me and keep me on my toes. Every day he teaches me something new.
I, on the other hand, bring the common sense and people skills to the mix. Oh! And I also bring vast knowledge of the British Monarchy, Disney villains and modern music. When we are paired together to play Trivial Pursuit we are unbeatable.
Who is the most sensitive?
THE AGGIE. Jesus! If I only had a nickel for every time I said/did/wrote something that would hurt his feelings. We are so incredibly opposite when it comes to this. I rarely if ever get my feelings hurt. I roll with the punches and I dish it out so I'm used to taking it. I think this goes back to a self-defense system that built up over many years of being That Strange Fat Girl With The Curly Hair And Glasses. (Which is actually my legal middle name.)
Who has the craziest exes?
Shitting Christ this is an easy one. HIM. HIM. HIM. Not a month after I had moved to Texas to I "bumped" into is most recent ex-girlfriend. From here on out, for purposes of this story, we'll call her Crazy Pills.
Well, I had to go into work one evening at about 3 p.m. and as I was leaving I noticed a car pull up into our driveway. Out jumps this really, really ugly redheaded girl wearing a denim miniskirt and Ug boots. Her arms are filled with all kind of gifts – balloons, flowers, t-shirts etc. In the middle of saying goodbye to me, the Aggie stopped abruptly and his eyes fixed on the girl.
Now to say that she flung herself to the ground and started kissing the earth beneath his feet would just be cruel to the dirt, especially after all the therapy it need to recover. So I won't go into details, but you can use imagination. Needless to say, she went bat shit crazy screaming about how lucky she was to have him back and that things could pick up where they left off. And oh my god she couldn't wait to have babies for him! BABIES! Life would be so wonderful.
Meanwhile, there I stand watching the Aggie SHIT IS FUCKING PANTS. As soon as Crazy Pills stopped to catch her breath, the Aggie took a step back and motioned toward me. Then he uttered the words that would launch a thousand tears: "Crazy Pills, meet my fiancée. We're getting married in March."
One week later, the Aggie got an email from Crazy Pills. It took some searching through a billion of so old emails, but I was able to locate the actual e-mail she sent. And let me tell you, I am soooo happy I didn’t delete it after the Aggie sent it to me. For the first time EVER I would like print that missive in its entirety. Be warned, the level of Crazy in the following text is 1) unaltered and 2) unmatched. (Only the names and actual email addresses have been changed.)
Subject: want you to be happy ;-)Holy monkeyballs, Batman! Where do I even start! There’s so much to be said, yet no words to describe this excessive level of crazy. I think this particular brand of Crazy stands on its on and really doesn’t require pithy commentary on my part. I will just say this, however, this girl wasn’t cooking with natural gas. She states over and over that she didn’t know about me and that I was some great secret. Yet I clearly recall her calling once BEFORE she showed up unannounced and the Aggie clicked it over to speaker phone and he said: “Hey, I don’t think you should call anymore. I have a GIRLFRIEND. She lives with me and we’re getting married.”
Date: Wednesday, September 15, 2004 3:21 PM
From: Crazy_Pills@crazymail.net
To: The Aggie
Hey...ok, this is it...my last communication with you as per your instructions.
I understand what you want and appreciate your happiness. I will honor your request and leave you alone but not without some final thoughts.
If I would have known that you even had a girlfriend let alone a fiancee' I would have respected the boundary. But, every time we spoke since you had returned to Texas you failed to mention a girlfriend or a fiancee'. I found out that a girlfriend existed because of the prior (and only other time) visit when someone at your office asked me if I was "the girl from Atlanta" I, of course, informed that I was not but an old friend from Huntsville...
So, you see the predicament you put me (and her) in when I stopped by.
At least she knew I existed...oh, well, it's done. But, I was in shock...your happiness is important so if you are truly happy then GREAT! I couldn't make you happy so maybe she'll do better.
I would love for us to be friends at a later date of your choosing, if you so desire. And would love to know all about your impending wedding.
Hate to say it but, I can't see it happening...She doesn't seem like the right fit for you but that is not for me to say and again, if she makes you happy and you can see yourself with her for the rest of your life and her being the mother of your children...then go for it! I support you and I promise you this...that no matter when or where you need me...I am there. We are friends no matter what you may think or want.
I am happy in my life and only want the same for you!
Good luck with your future.
With love and affection,
Crazy Pills
To this she responded: “Hey, did you hear that So-and-So are getting married. The wedding is in June. We should go.”
What’s that I hear? Yeah, it’s the clock and its going COO-COO COO-COO.
I wish this story ends here, but it doesn’t. Sometime when I’m drinking vodka straight from the bottle I’ll have to tell you about the time we ran into her at a restaurant and a knife fell out of her purse. I know, wrong of me to tease but I feel as though I should move on for now. Clearly, I’ve said enough to secure the fact that his exes make up the entire city council of Crazy Town.
Who has the worst temper?
One time, there was this football game on television, and he behaved so poorly that I considered divorce.
Who does the cooking?
Both of us.
Who is the neat-freak?
Sweet baby Jesus. If only one of were neat. Not even a neat-freak. Just neat. That would be heaven. But we’re not and if you don’t hear from us for more than two days you should come check the house to make sure we’ve not died in a pile of our own filth and the dogs are eating our corpses.
Who is more stubborn?
We both are. He’s got his dad in him and I’ve got my mother in me.
Who hogs the bed?
Sonny the Pug.
Who wakes up earlier?
The Aggie. Usually because Ripken has slipped his head silently under the covers and sticks his freezing nose into the Aggie’s asscrack. TIME TO WAKE UP AND EAT/PLAY/ENTERTAIN!
Where was your first date?
His apartment. Pizza and wine.
Who is more jealous?
Me.
How long did it take to get serious?
Well… it would have happened a lot sooner if I didn’t insist on ending every kiss with the caveat “We’re just friends. I don’t want a serious boyfriend.”
Who eats more?
We are in Weight Watchers because of our mutual love of food.
Who does the laundry?
The Aggie. He is so good to me.
Who's better with the computer?
Me. The Aggie will argue this, but I simply call SCOREBOARD.
Who drives when you are together?
He does. Because he’s the BEDIT. BEST DAMN DRIVER IN TEXAS. It’s a self-proclaimed title.
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