Ok, after writing this post, an extra little Magic Moment squeaked it's way into my day, and I couldn't let it pass without mentioning it, so before I begin properly here goes. On Sunday morning I was googling my blog address, not really sure why, I suppose I just wondered if it came up near the top, or if anyone else out there used the same sequence of words for anything. Anyway, what actually came up could have knocked me down with a feather, I was completely oblivious to the fact that some lovely little blighter nominated this little blog for a MAD Blog award! Look right there, click it! I'm there under the J's! Round 1 week 1. I had absolutely no idea so I didn't promote it or mention it, but I just wanted to say a massive THANK YOU to that wonderful anonymous person and give them a big virtual kiss. How cool is that? It really REALLY is the thought that counts and I couldn't be more chuffed about this particular thought. Magic Moments are just popping right up all over the show aren't they? And that, quite frankly, is a fan-flippin-tastic thing.
Anyway, since joining in with this link up, I have, like many others I would imagine, been giving the Magic Moments in my life some thought. After sharing a little about my dear husband's marriage proposal recently it made me think about some of our memorable moments as a couple. I thought I'd share with you with you the story of how we first met.....
Actually, that's a bit of a lie. I'll have to share the story of the second time we met because I don't remember the first. He does, but I may have been a little teeny weeny bit tiddly.
At the time I was living in a shared house with some friends, I was enjoying my freedom, only having to worry about myself and generally having a ball. Everyone in the house got on so well, it's the first and only time I've ever lived with friends and it was great. I look back on it as care free time that was full of laughter, we were young, not tied down by anything and had disposal incomes to fritter on nonsense. We ate sea bass on weekdays, that's right you heard me, weekdays!
We'd all lived together for three months when it was Twinkle's Birthday. A house night out was arranged, to be attended by myself, Twinkle, Blagger, Pammy and Twinkle's new boyfriend Murf. They'd not been together long so Murf was granted permission to bring along a friend as back up. The thought of being confronted by a gaggle of women (Blagger didn't count) didn't appeal to him, understandably! He chose to bring along my lovely boy. On the way there I told Twinkle in no uncertain terms that she wasn't allowed to lumber me with Murf's geeky mate whilst she went off with her beau.
We arrived and I immediately thought Murf's mate was pretty flippin' lovely. Tall and handsome, but quiet and sweet. He was very interested in music and we'd (unbeknown to us) been to a lot of the same gigs, we chatted easily, got on well. I was deploying several of my excellent seduction techniques (ha!) in an effort to make an impression, the only problem was; Twinkle wouldn't flippin' well leave us alone!! She'd taken my earlier threats to hide her epilator if she abandoned me very seriously. In the end I had to make surreptitious cut throat signals at her whenever he looked the other way. Eventually followed by two unmistakable fingers. She got the message.
At the end of the evening my boy offered to drive us back to the house (he hadn't been drinking) so we all trolled back to his car and he gave us a lift home. We went inside and I made cocktails for the others and tea for him. It was the first time Murf had, ahem, stayed over and Twinkle retired upstairs ahead of him. We mocked him mercilessly with jokes about "slipping into something more comfortable" and how he'd have to do his duty for king and country. Eventually Murf sloped off and everyone except my boy and I had either passed out or fallen asleep. We'd been having a lovely time, chatting, but eventually it was time for him to head off.
Now, our house at the time had three storeys and the front door could only be opened from the inside with the key. Twinkle had taken her keys off to bed, so the only way to let my boy out of the house was to go up to my bedroom on the top floor and get my keys to unlock the door for him.
Off I sauntered to get them, thinking how very lovely this young man was and what an excellent job I was doing of being impressive. I'd taken my heels off when I got in, like you do - so I only had tights on my feet. Slippery bloody tights. Oh I should have known! On my way back down the top level flight of stairs I slipped, fell on my arse with the loudest bang you've ever heard, the whole house shook. A LOT of unladylike swearing followed as I and went boom, boom, boom down the last three steps. My legs sort of travelled out in front if me and whacked into Twinkle's bedroom door, opening it slightly. I didn't give the door opening much thought at the time, but I was in massive trouble the next day for "putting Murf off" sorry guys!
I picked myself up, tried my best to dust myself down and ignore my reddening cheeks and summoned every last scrap of dignity I had to saunter into the hall on wobbly legs. My boy was standing waiting, trying, very sweetly, to disguise the fact he was wetting himself with laughter at my, ahem, grace and elegance.
We glossed over it. I let him out, kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye. He looked terrified! A girl, being so forward? Scandalous!!! Then he asked me if I'd like to see his band play the following week.
I'm not the sentiment type, but I locked the door, went upstairs and went to bed. I knew that night I'd met the man I was going to marry. Magic Moment? Hell yeah!