Of Valentine’s Day & Our Story

The Weed and me lost in a forest in Lillehammer, Norway. I made him take this photo, in case we were never heard from again. 'At least they'll find this photo of us smiling,' I told him.

Valentine’s Day isn’t a very big holiday at Casa de Weed.

Years ago, The Weed told me: ‘I hate Valentine’s Day.’ Subsequent years of research bear this out: He really does.

So, yesterday, we didn’t celebrate so much.

Instead, The Weed was gifted a T-shirt featuring a favorite BattleBot (No photos yet. There will be.) In exchange, he shoveled some snow and cleaned up the breakfast dishes. I’ll take it.

We also enjoyed a dinner of wine and fondue, and binged the second season of MindHunter on NetFlix. (Serial killer stories on Valentine’s Day…This Is Us.)

It was a nice day spent mostly hunkered down on the couch…Away from Colorado’s below-freezing temperatures.

While we were busy binging NetFlix, several friends shared tidbits on social media about how they met their significant others and their ‘Stories.’ I enjoyed reading them and getting to know how other couples joined forces.

In keeping with some sort of normal Valentine’s Day tradition, a day late, here’s ours:

• How’d you meet?: We lived in the same dorm our freshman year at Colorado State. He was on the ‘brother’ floor; I was on the ‘sister’ floor. We became really good friends who spent most Saturday nights going to parties together (with the entire brother/sister floor), returning to the dorm to eat pizza and watch American Gladiators on the crappy black-and-white TV in my room. Strangely, we also spent several afternoons each week together watching the 1960s Batman series.

• First date?: Since The Weed and I were such good friends, I was pretty hesitant to go the dating route. He, however, wanted more. So, I said I would go on an ‘Undate’ with him to test the waters. For the ‘Undate,’ we went to dinner at Bennigan's. I slowly started to see how spending the rest of my life with my best friend wouldn’t be such a bad deal.

• How long have you been together?: We became ‘official,’ as the kids like to say, during our sophomore year at Colorado State. (That’s many years ago. Don’t make me do the math.)

The Weed still lived in the same dorm but I moved off campus with friends to an apartment, where we continued Saturday night traditions of ordering pizza and viewing American Gladiators. (Our friends will have stories to share. Please don’t sully our early days, people.)

• Married?: We tied the knot on Saturday, June 22, 1996, at the Hotel Boulderado in Boulder, CO. In likely the shortest marriage ceremony on record, it became official and we soon were doing the Electric Slide with our friends and family, while taking tequila shots on the dance floor. To conclude the night, yep, you guessed it: We ordered pizza.

• Age difference?: I am the Mrs. Robinson in the union. I am one year older than The Weed. He’s a better man for this.

• Who was interested first?: The Weed. He tells stories about me blowing him off. I did. I didn’t want to lose our friendship.

• Who is taller?: The Weed. This is important how?

• Who said 'I love you' first?: Sadly, I really don’t remember who said it first. I do remember a few occasions where our love was pretty well laid out, though.

—One Saturday night our freshman year, The Weed and I were hanging out late after playing ping pong or something silly in the dorm’s lobby. We were both a bit inebriated. The Weed was reclined on a small brick wall and we were talking, when I confessed: ‘You are the man I’m going to marry.’ I guess I really did know.

—Throughout much of our freshman year, we played pranks on each other. One night, I went into his dorm room and executed the first-ever woman-led panty raid, tossing The Weed’s drawers all over his room. He immediately pledged revenge. So, I wisely placed a padlock on my underwear drawer. In response, The Weed wrote a computer program to figure every possible combination to unlocking the lock. If I remember correctly, he was granted one day a week to try the results of his program. Eventually, he cracked the code, and one afternoon when I was in class, he threw my underpants all around my dorm room. If that doesn’t sound like ‘I love you,’ I really don’t know what does.

• Most impatient?: The Weed patiently waited for me to come to my senses about this whole relationship thing. So, I guess it’s me.

• Most sensitive?: Both of us. I’m sensitive about world peace, people’s feelings, and fashion. For The Weed’s part, I’ve caught him crying during movies and while watching dog videos on YouTube.

• Loudest?: I have to go with The Weed here. He whistles. He snaps. He snores. He sneezes to wake the dead. I am quiet like a little mouse.

• Most stubborn?: Me. My people are Nordic.

• Who falls asleep first?: Me. Always me. Snoring on the couch…I’m told. I’ve not seen the science on this, though.

• Who cooks better?: Me most nights of the week. The Weed does better when it comes to wine and fondue.

• Better morning person?: The Weed. He’s a monster.

• Better driver?: The Weed. I’ve never driven a car on I-70 in Colorado. I never will.

• Most competitive?: The Weed. He competed for Team USA, for Pete’s sake.

• Funniest?: The Weed. He can make me ugly laugh most minutes of the day.

• Who is more social?: The Weed. He can walk into a room and talk to anyone before him. It takes me several deep breaths and a few shots of courage to talk to someone cold.

• Who is the neat freak?: Me. I find myself spending too much time obsessing over water spots on the kitchen sink.

• Where was your first kiss?: Again, I really don’t remember. I suspect it was in my apartment at Colorado State.

Our most memorable kisses? —Greeting a triumphant Weed at the finish line in Edinburgh after he raced the ITU Duathlon World Championships. He finished the race in amazing form even after an early morning knee injury that had him almost withdraw at the start.

—Saying goodbye to each other one morning at St. Joseph’s Hospital before I was wheeled into surgery for a double mastectomy.

• Do you get flowers often?: No. Would rather grow them than watch them wilt.

• How long did it take to get serious?: I would say more than a year. We were really good friends. It was hard for me to take that leap into something else. The Weed might have a PowerPoint presentation about how I strung him along. I’ll update if that comes to light.

• Who plans date night?: We don’t do date nights. ‘Undate’ nights? That would be me.

• Who picks where you go to dinner?: Both of us. Although, lately, it’s been bickering over DoorDash and GrubHub orders. I always want Indian food or barbecue. The Weed remains a true pizza connoisseur.

• Who wears the pants in the relationship?: Yoga pants? Me. Sweat pants? The Weed.

• Who cries more?: Me. I am a puddle.

• Who has more tattoos?: Me. I am also an inkpad.

• Who sings better?: Neither of us. The Weed likes to sing ‘Sunflower’ by Post Malone at the top of his lungs. This is not good, people.

• Hogs the remote?: I like to think there is an even distribution of remote use in the household. The Weed likely will disagree. Still, I can only watch so many PawnStars reruns without losing my mind.

• Spends the most?: Me. eCommerce is my jam. The Weed does dabble in acquiring fine double blends, though.

• Did you go to the same school?: Yep. Colorado State University. Go Rams!

• Where is the farthest you two have traveled together?: Santorini, Greece = Roughly 6,300 miles from Denver, and worth it. We’ve been fortunate to visit some pretty great places, Lillihammer, Amsterdam, Mykonos, Paris, Edinburgh, OktoberFest in Munich (Boy howdy, do I have stories from OktoberFest!), Lake Como, Vancouver, Seattle (Pretty memorable stories from Seattle, as well.) We hope to see much more!

The Weed and me on the windy coast of Santorini, Greece. A long haul but worth it!