I was tagged by Tina of MyGoodFinds.Org about what was I thinking when I met my husband. Here is Tina’s post.

Here goes mine:

My husband of twelve years and I met at their house. They live in a compound where there is a row of four doors of tiny apartments on the side of their house. When I moved out of the dorm I was staying in a street away, my dorm-mates and I moved into the first door of their apartments. I have met his other siblings (all six siblings). I didn’t know they still have another brother, who is the eldest, because I was rarely in the place since I was already working full time as a preschool teacher and was doing graduate studies after work and during Saturdays. I saw him one morning supervising a brother who was parking a car in the garage. I just looked at him and thought, “Is he what they call ‘Macho‘? He is does not look like one because he is thin.” We just looked at each other and said nothing because we haven’t been introduced.

So when we were finally introduced, I was just nonchalant about it. I got to know bits and pieces about him like he plays keyboards in a band, can drive really fast and studying computer science. It was only a few days after when I learned that the Macho actually was the car he drives, a Toyota Corona Macho Machine, a mean little two-door car that packs a lot of action. It looks like this, except for the mag wheels. Still a few days later, I asked him if he would like to go with me to a concert in (then called) Ultra in Pasig City. It was a The Police concert and I got two free tickets. Guess what, when he hasn’t arrived yet at the time we were supposed to leave and impatient me, not wanting to be late for this much-awaited event, went with one of the girls I live with in the apartment. The next day, I had a rose from him and the rest as they say is history…

This entry was posted on Friday, July 27th, 2007 at 6:56 am and is filed under Bits and Pieces, My Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.