A Blast From the Past

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I’ve seen several posts today where ladies compared this year’s St. Patty’s to many years ago (see here & here) & it got me to thinking.  The highlight of today was drinking a green adult beverage (margarita) at the Mexican dive.  But, where was I ten years ago for St. Patrick’s Day?  Hmmm…1998. Oh, yeah (said with pure seething), I remember now. 

1998 was Puppy’s senior year at ND.  This was the only year Pup & I had different spring breaks in college.  His was first.  He and a couple of his buddies drove from South Bend to Panama City to partake of debauchery, tomfoolery, and shenanigans before he flew home.  They had such a truly miserable time he vowed never to return to Florida.  We overlapped breaks by only a weekend, but it was okay with us, because Puppy was getting a car for his graduation present.  We decided I would drive back to school with Pup & his younger brother.  I was set to spend my break in exciting South Bend (pardon the snort), Indiana.  I also just knew this was the week I was getting engaged. 

Why did I think this?

1. I was set on the 3 year rule (no ring by the end of three years & I’m outta here) and we were very close to it. 
2. He’d just accepted a job in New England and I was not following without an I do.  Oh, and
3. It was Notre Dame over St. Patrick’s Day…how cornball could you get…and Puppy?  For all I love the man, he’s just not overly creative. 

I literally sat on my suitcase to get it to close.  I brought every possible outfit to fit each and every scenario.  I brought cute and cuddle bunny for actual real snow (a rarity for a Houstonian), dresses for an elegant dinner, and a nice green outfit for St. Patrick’s just in case he actually made me wait until Wednesday.  I brought accessories, shoes to match all outfits, hair goop and jewelry….all things I normally would not ever think of packing.

The 19 hour drive was memorable with the three of us.  I couldn’t have cared less.  I was happy as a lark.  I was getting my diamond ring - and about damn time!  Monday came and went.  Puppy went to classes.  I hung out in his dorm and actually did a little work on a term paper in the ND library.  Tuesday came and went.  Same song 2nd verse.  

Then, it was Wednesday.  St. Patrick’s Day.  I slept in a little while Pup went to his 8am calculus class. {Now, we know I was the goody goody, but just because I did not sleep with my spouse before we were married, did not mean we did not share a bed…okay?} I spent time actually dressing.  I curled my hair in actual rollers.  I even wore a scarf  (an accessory?  seriously!) in my attempt to look the part.  Then, I trudged from St. Mary’s across the highway to Notre Dame.  I was ready.  I was willing.  I even had waterproof mascara on…the problem?  Apparently, someone forgot to tell nitwit.

“Hol, I have to work the graveyard shift at the computer lab tonight, so we can’t stay out late, okay?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“And, Brian & Brian want us to hang out with them, okay?”

“Umm? Okay?”

What?  What is this?  No fancy dinner?  No candles?  He’s trying to mess with me, right?  Wrong.  My job for St. Patrick’s Day?  Designated driver.  I had the pure JOY of carting his drunk ass friends around.  This was lots of fun as I’d never driven on ice/snow before and had never set foot off the ND campus.  We ate dinner and drank (them, not me) at BW3s (now known as Buffalo Wild Wings) for a couple of hours.  Pup said he had to get some sleep before his 1-5 am shift, so we offered the Brians a lift to their next venue.  The Brians asked to be driven somewhere that was nearby - and 40 minutes later when we were back in front of BW3s I finally went off.  Apparently the place they wanted to go was just around the corner.  I wanted to kill them.

My calm, cool & collected demeanor was just a touch riled at this point.  We got back to the hotel and I was thinking he was about to say something about going to the Grotto or the Dome.  He said something about going to sleep.  That was the second time that evening I went off.  The fight?  Was horrible.  At one point he said something about driving me to Chicago where I could wait for my train at the station for two days.  He had no clue I thought we were getting engaged.  Why would I think that?  Ummm…really?  I needed to answer that?  We broke up - technically.  And, then, with all the anger and frustration out, we made up.  And, he swore the next time I saw him (which was his graduation) I’d get my ring.  Know what?  I did. 

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Filed under 3 Ring Circus, I love the Puppy, My life BC (before child), Not if my life depended on it, Shiver Me Timbers