"One for You, One for Me..."

When Melody met me I was standing in a dusty corner of the Times Square station parked next to a staircase that led down to the 7 train, where I had been waiting for over half an hour. The day so far I had spent on a disappointing workout, a grueling shift, braving the tail end of Wednesday’s shiver, and idle time to lament it all while catching plenty of passing looks. “Having a bad day?” she asked me on the train. I nodded, a little embarrassed. I told her about my day, and she asked me if I wanted something to make it better. She told me that morning she was going to stop by Uniqlo. I even saw the bag, I figured maybe she got me a tie or suspenders. I had no clue. She reached inside and instead pulled out a small hazelnut box made of recycled paper, with a sun flare sticker smoothed over—the color of dark chocolate—sealing it shut. “Sprinkles” it read. I mustered some gratitude, though I wasn’t in the mood for cupcakes. “That’s nice, only I don’t have a big appetite right now.” She just kept smiling, oblivious to my lack of enthusiasm. “Read what it says,” she gently instructed. On the box she had written in pen “one for YOU, one for ME…” finished with a heart. I didn’t get it. Wasn’t that just being cute? Why is she so excited? She reached into the Uniqlo bag a second time, this time she pulled out a tiny paper bag—the same color as the box, with the same sun flare sticker. It wasn’t big enough to have another regular cupcake in it, it was much smaller. On it, in pen, was written “…and one for baby.” A dozen different Julians clamored over each other in my head. What? When! Hey, this is a special moment! Be excited! Remember this! But why now? Why here on the 7 train? Can everyone see me? Cupcakes? I nearly jumped up and woke up all the sleeping riders. She giggled. (01/26/2014)

 

-J

She's kind of spicy.

Yesterday, a friend told me “You know, I thought Melody was just this sweet happy girl with a big smile, but she’s kind of spicy!” “Yes,” I chuckled, “she’s got sass.” She is also courteous, responsible with money, a lover a wisdom, and is fiercely committed to children most people don’t want to deal with. I see her in most of her facets, and I can say she is a joy to know. Happy Birthday to my Melody! My wife, my confidant, and the delight of my eyes.


-J

Melody's First Audition.

So my manager calls me in the morning to let me know I have a callback for a commercial in a few hours. I was just cast in a play and today we begin rehearsal, but thankfully the audition is close enough for me to drop by on my lunch break. It’s not until I’m all signed in and waiting to audition, casually observing the room like I do, when my commercial agent calls and says “Listen, they’ve made a last minute change. They want to see real couples only. Can you come back with your wife before 6?” “Sure,” I tell her, anything but that. I can only imagine Melody’s reaction to seeing my text:

“Don’t go to gym. They want you to audition with me! Meet me 14^th st btwn 9/10th av by 5:50”

I bolt back to rehearsal with just enough time to both inhale a salad and ask my director how he’d feel about me leaving 30 minutes early on our first day of rehearsal. He shakes his head and mumbles some words which I can’t make out into an answer. As if I weren’t uncomfortable enough with kale lodged in my chest…

Outside the station, I eventually spot Melody in the post-work rush. It doesn’t take more than a moment to recognize that look on her face. “You’re making me super anxious,” she says. I try to say something reassuring but everything I say is so fraught with my own nerves it does no good. I’m nervous for her. I’m nervous for myself; I don’t know what to expect either. “We don’t have to do this,” I tell her. “Oh,” she replies with that look,” we don’t?” I shrug and we keep walking.

The audition is all interview. The guy asks us how we’d met, which is all we need to go off about all the plot twists in our story, nearly busting a move in the room to illustrate how bangin’ the wedding was. Some ladies in the back laugh along staring at us on a screen. By the time we leave the building Melody’s entire demeanor has changed. “You’ve just got to let it go,” she tells me. “You do your work, and you let it go.” “Is that how it is, huh? Look at you.” “I know,” she says, “my first audition’s for a national commercial—a callback, a callback—and I don’t even have an agent. Try not to be jealous.”

Valentine's Gift

Valentine's this year would come after our first anniversary and Melody's first birthday in the city. Another dinner seemed out of the question, and she has never been a flowers and candy type of girl. When I told her that I couldn't find someone to cover my shift, she was less than pleased. Trains of thought over the next few days led to leaving this on our coffee table to find when she came home from work.

"Ordinary Us"

Packing a lunch a few hours ahead,
Washing the dishes, making the bed,
Showing how much they mean to you thus,
Aren't you glad for ordinary us?

Sharing together your favorite shows,
Laughing 'cause you know what nobody knows,
Knowing for certain that you have their trust,
Aren't you glad for ordinary us?

Spending the day like a couple of bums,
Lying around, twiddling thumbs,
Feeling just fine with your hair in a muss,
Aren't you glad for ordinary us?

Arriving to find your spouse at the door,
Working each day, and knowing what for,
Bearing the walk, the train, and the bus!
Aren't you glad for ordinary us?

Life wins again and again against ill,
We turn away yet He stands behind still,
Christ brought down low what pulses above,
Aren't you glad for ordinary love?

- Julian

One Year Post pt. 2

I never wanted to live in New York. I don't get to see my nephew grow up, I'm missing out on family parties, I don't have the convenience of my car,  I have to adapt to seasons, and I can't casually get some In-N-Out or carne asada fries.

Why would I want to be pulled away from the comfort of California, my family, my friends, my home?  In this year, I've realized that the location of home is arbitrary.  Home becomes where your spouse is, because your spouse becomes your home.  You two become one flesh, a new family, and all the familiar things you leave behind are necessary costs for the sake of beginning a new life with your husband. So while I sometimes long to be back on the west coast, we cling to knowing that God has a plan to grow us and use us, whether here or there. - Melody

Ica Images

One Year Post.

John Lauren Photography

Yesterday marked a full year since Melody and I had our wedding. In that time a question that's become standard for our friends to ask us is "So what's it like being married?" The question never seemed an ill-fit to me, because of course I used to think the same way they did, that after the wedding you suddenly step into this brand new reality, like starting college or moving to the city. And in many ways I still believe it's like that, but since that time I've learned marriage is actually more like planting a garden. Sure, there have been a lot of changes to our lives that have happened almost instantly (we didn't live together before); but how marriage really changes you as a person, in all the cool remarkable ways, is only seen slowly and after a lot of effort. Starting a blog only seemed appropriate. - Julian