One Year of Kick-Yer-Ass Awesome

Josh and I met one year ago today. He’s not home right now, and I just got back in from dinner with my mother and now feel like ass. So as far as anniversaries go, it’s probably not the most idealistic. But I still feel like the biggest winner ever. I’m so in love it’s retarded.

We met, quite randomly, via wordpress…and fine, blogspot too I guess, which is where he was before switching to wordpress. In fact, my first comment to him started off with how crap blogspot is. I found him from a comment he left on my post written about the equally crap Toronto Independent Music Awards (crap because there were more thank-you’s to the corporate supporters than actual music or info, and as usual, my usual posse of strange morons abounded in all their poorly-dressed glory).

He wrote:

Despite my general distaste for the Indie scene in general, I loved your account of the evening. I wish I could get this post drunk and seduce it into a one night stand that ends akwardly but still leaves both parties gratified. In fact this could just about be any awards show at any shitty club. It would have been the exact same lame ass people/bull shit. And take pride in how many people you pissed off. They were probably the bald deuche bags that blocked traffic with their charitable buggery. And forget about the grammar. Grammar is for class work and science articles. This is teh facking interweb noobs. Mother fuckers don’t have to grammarize shit if they don’t feel like it! Ask any LOLcat.

(ed note: I had gotten a lot of grammar-related shit from Indie lovers, and may or may not have pissed off a charitable organization en route to the show.)

Your blog has a perfect title, cause after reading it for the first time, it sort of feels like christmas time. Rock on Green Metropolis. I like chicks with balls. (not actual balls mind you, the metaphorical sort of balls that don’t clutter up the paradice city that is the ball-less vagina)

Lolcats and vaginas. How could I resist? I took a trip on over to his page and found a cool, hilarious, foul-mouthed character who instantly pulled me in with his ranting and raving over Google difficulties. Clearly, we were two awesome people waylayed by the jackassery surrounding us.

I wrote:

yeah, i’m with ben about the wordpress.com leaflet. But can I tell you that you’re awesome? I have totally blogrolled you (not that I remember how I repaired it), and if you happen to be at my site, you might find a kindred spirit with my post “Fuck you, you fucktarded fucking fuckbags.” Just a thought.

Kindred spirits indeed. More like meant to be.

And if you’re wondering who ‘ben’ is, he was some random person who commented just before me with *sneaks in*leaves a wordpress leaflet*sneaks out. I have no idea who he is, but I agreed and decided to say so. I’d thank him for his small role in this tale, but his blog is long abandoned with no contact. Oh well, we all play a bit-part in someone’s story.

It continued on from there, with more comments and almost immediate flirting. I was smitten. So was he. We each talked to our mutual e-friends about each other (*cough*Romi*cough*Talea-even-though-she’s-my-real-friend-too*cough*) while still avoiding the terrifying reality that is turning to someone you have a total crush on and telling them how you feel.

We began talking via msn, and facebook, sending each other long letters every day, sometimes two, or letters so long that facebook insisted on multiple…

…..

Sorry, multiple installments. Got a little distracted there. Ahem.

Right, lots of letters. Paragraph upon paragraph exploring our lives and our very different worlds. Our experiences with life, love and everything in between. In regards to our lives, they were and continue to be very different. We always have something to talk about, even though we’ve reached the point where we’re comfortable just sitting quietly together. In regards to love, we had both been jilted a few times. He had mentioned a few girls, and I disapproved of them – partially because I’m naturally a very judgemental person and mostly because I was already jealous and wanted him for my own. And I was rotating between a few non-committal characters that he could already recognize as completely wrong for me.

I’ve been reading back through our letters, and while I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it became clear that we were head over heels, there was a day where I announced my belief that a horrible joke was being played on us – we would so obviously be together if not for the 800 miles between us. From that point, we gradually changed from friends to more-than-friends with no effort at all. It’s like we had been together all along, and it only made sense. The 800 miles no longer seemed like a factor in a decision. It wasn’t a matter of choosing whether or not to pursue something that was sure to be difficult. It was now a simple fact that we were together, and there was this giant space between us that had to be conquered. We had started dating without having yet met.

On March 11th of this year, after he wrote a long, heartfelt, romantic letter on facebook, promptly had it accidentally erased, and then simply blurted out over msn “I’m in love with you,” Josh and I became an official ‘couple’. It’s awesome. He is awesome. We are awesome. Having Josh has changed me in so many ways for the better, and for once I feel like I’m doing something right. I win. I win, I win, I win I win I win. Whatever lottery or system of karma that determines who we find in life to carry us through, be it luck, destiny, fate, randomness, whatever you feel like calling it, I hit the total jackpot.

And here’s the best part: we’re not just in love (as well as total and complete lust), we’re in like. I *like* Josh. I can fart on him. He can fart on me. I can cry in front of him. I can rant and rave and be a total weirdo. He can insist on ridiculous manly things, be in funny moods, and send me e-cards to inform me that the bird is in fact, the word. He can comment freely on how hot such-and-such an actress is, and I still have my other boyfriends (Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue and George Stroumboulopoulos of CBC’s The Hour – as long as they don’t find out, since people do resort to restraining orders and whatever) because at the end of the day I feel totally secure that Josh is my man and will be there when I need him. Emotional security is not an easy accomplishment for a crazy girl like me, but Josh ninja-kicked his way through and ran off with my heart, leaving me with nothing to say except “Awesome. Count me in.”

*Round of Applause*

So today is not our official one year anniversary, but it’s still a pretty awesome day. Because we’re not just a couple, we’re friends too. And that is totally worth celebrating.

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How I Got Here

I’m going to break the general rules of internet existence and tell you that my name is Emerald. My boyfriends name is Josh. I’m not too worried about him in regards to internet stalkers, that’s a pretty common name. I have another blog that I won’t be linking you to anytime soon, and for a very good reason. I’ve started this blog to talk about things that I don’t want people in the real world to know about just yet. Time for a little recreation of the self, if you will.

This blog is about Josh and I, but not to worry: I’m not a retarded fifteen year old doodling hearts on her plastic binder, gazing whimsically at an attractive head of hair some three seats ahead. Instead of oozing and gushing copious amounts of affection and biased praise, I plan to use this outlet as a way of documenting my progress as I slog through a shitfuckton of both momentous occasions and difficulties in regards to our relationship. Yes, I said shitfuckton. If you have a problem with a girl who curses like a sailor, I suggest you keep ridin’ partner, there’s sure to be a blog for you somewhere out there.

But wait, difficulties? Oh no! What can this mean? Are we fighting? At a crossroads? Have I come here to vent about his jackassery? Am I unsure of the sincerity of blah blah blah blah blah? No.

This all brings us to the title of this blog, 800 miles. That’s approximately how far apart we live.

Since I can’t imagine any of you potential readers have stumbled upon our story elsewhere, let me fill you in. Josh and I met right here on WordPress, in a fantabulous twist of the fates. Last October, he commented on a post of mine, and I followed suit on his. The rest is pretty much history involving upgrades to facebook and instant messaging. What started as an exploration of the differences between where we live and what we do turned into an ongoing conversation about who we are as people, how we relate to the rest of the world, and how we feel about life, love, and all the rest of that good stuff. We began to wonder what sort of joke was being played on us – evidently we were meant to be together if not for that pesky mileage issue. I’m not sure exactly when, but it became pretty clear after a while that we were dating anyways. With the miraculous advantage of live chatting, webcams and heartfelt letters, a solid relationship formed without the need to have met face to face. This was an interesting predicament for a girl quite used to nookie whenever she feels like it, and as it turns out it was a refreshing change for the better. At any rate, on March 10th, Josh wrote an in-depth romantic letter (via facebook obviously, we are in our twenties after all) explaining his true feelings for me. His sister-in-law accidentally closed the window, and so the letter was never sent. Forgoing patience, he decided against rewriting it and simply blurted out via msn: I’m in love with you.

Awwww

Awwww

Yeah, yeah, I know. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Good thing I’m in love with him too. And so the facebook status was changed to “in a relationship”, a momentous occasion for anyone sucked in by the whole genre, and I began to make plans to visit him. For a number of reasons I’ll get to in a second, these travel plans were held off for a while, leading only to a stronger relationship in the meantime. But eventually, all worked out and off I went. Via Greyhound I did travel, a 24 hour trip filled with…well, all the fantabulous fuckuppery one can expect from spending a day on a bus filled with the public. I made it there in one piece and finally got to see my wonderful boyfriend face to face and spend a week with his amazing family and friends, and obviously his amazing self as well.

I am smitten. There was no awkwardness, a little bit of nervousness, but almost immediately a very smooth transition into face-to-face togetherness, a falling into routine that made it difficult to believe we’d ever been apart, and even more difficult getting back on the bus the next weekend. We’d been talking long term plans from the beginning – our agreement on these most important topics being one of the ways we fell in love in the first place – but now we’re heading in that direction for sure.

But there are a few things in our way.

Firstly is the 800 miles between us. Secondly is the pesky US-Canadian border between us. Yeeeeaaah, you didn’t see that coming, did you? So one of us has to deal with immigration bullshit if we’re to be together, and neither of us are down with running down the aisle simply for a green card. I’m the Canuck, by the way, Josh is from the heart of Dixie Land and damn proud of it. We’ve already decided that Canada has more advantages in the way of schooling and healthcare and economics, but for the immediate future, it’s looking like it’ll be easier for me to move down there for a bit. He’s got a criminal record, you see.

Oh, what’s this! A convicted felon? I’m head over heels for some rebel troublemaker who surely can’t be serious about our future together? From the south no less? Oh, the stereotypes! I can hear the judgement from this side of the computer screen. Well, no. Been there, done that. Josh spent a few years rebelling against his Flanders-esque upbringing (we are talking about the Deep South, do recall) and was finally bitchslapped by the long arm of the law. At this point he realized that if he didn’t calm down some, he was going nowhere fast. And so he smartened up, and from what his friends and family have told me, is barely recognizeable from the what-was seven years ago. As for me, I don’t even know that person. But this is the US judicial system and the red tape drags on and on and on. He still has court dates looming from well before I met him, and every time a date comes up, I’m stuck 800 miles away not knowing if he’s going to be coming back that afternoon with yet another continuation, or if he’s going to be taken away for anywhere from a few weeks to a few years.

What’s a girl to do? Fuck that, that’s what. I’m not sitting by waiting for my man to be taken away and then given back before I figure out how to get our lives together. If Josh is stuck where he is then I’ll have to pack up my shit and move down there. I’ve moved on my own plenty of times, dragged myself out of impoverisHed debt many a time, and I can do it again. Obviously, it’s just going to be more complicated.

So that’s where I am – caught up in a whirlwind of solid love but complicated circumstances. And because I’m sure it’s going to be a story worth retelling later, I thought it wise to document it along the way. Hope you’ll follow along for the ride, it’s sure to be exciting.

Oh, by the way, Josh is going to be here too. We’ve decided on a dual blog, so you’ll be able to hear his side of all this too. Fun times!