It Was All Over Once We Measured Our Heads
My husband has teased me for over ten years about the canned message I used to introduce myself to him online.
On 06/23/2005 04:06 pm EDT, I sent: “I like your profile. Tell me more.”
It was the only time I had ever sent anyone a canned message. After seven years of being widowed, I didn’t feel like putting any more effort into this whole finding-a-perfect-mate thing.
On 06/24/2005 06:03 am EDT, he replied with his own canned message: “I’d like to know more about you. Maybe you could take the Personality & Love Style Test?”
A test? Who does this guy think he is? A test? Oh, I don’t think so. My plan was to play hard to get.
On 06/24/2005 05:21 pm EDT, I wrote: “I found the test and downloaded the Flash Player they said I needed to take the test. I’ve downloaded it 6 times, yet no go. Does this mean I flunked? If you have any hints as to how I can access this test, please send them along. Thanks. Clarice.”
If he wanted me to take his stupid test, I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
On 06/24/2005 09:56 pm EDT, he wrote: “Not to ask a really dumb question, but after downloading Flash Player, did you install it? I know, that’s a lot like asking if your TV’s not working because it’s not plugged in, but it’s all I could think of. David.”
Did I install the Flash Player? I downloaded it, wasn’t that good enough? What more did this moustached man from New Hampshire want from me? Well, I wasn’t so desperate that I needed to put up with this nonsense!
On 06/25/2005 08:57 am EDT, I wrote: “You must think my e-IQ is below average, but I’ve tried, really I have. I’ve clicked on the Personality Test and downloaded and installed the Flash 7, oh, probably 15 times by now. I have also re-booted more than once. Anyway, until I figure this out, here are a few facts about me:
- I’m much shorter than you.
- I don’t have a moustache. I’ve been told I’m attractive (even without the moustache).
- The symphony puts me to sleep, but I don’t think that’s a sin.
- I want to lose 10 lbs.
- I am honest [Correction: Make that 20 lbs.] and dependable and able to adapt to most situations in quick and positive manner. [I’d just put that on my resume and thought it sounded pretty good, so included it.] Have I scared you away for good? Clarice
There. No harm in sending him a few bits of information about me. Actually, there were 20 other things on the list, but does that make me a bad person? It’s not like I asked him to write a “What Marriage Means To Me Essay” or anything. (Well, maybe I did, but not until a month later.)
On 06/25/2005 11:20 pm EDT, he wrote: “Ack! I didn’t mean to act like you were e-IQ challenged! I was just admitting my own inability to come up with a solution to your problem. I’ve always thought ladies should be able to walk under my outstretched arm without mussing their hair. So 5′-2+3/8″ is a nice height. Moustaches on ladies have a very limited following, so your lack of one is no disadvantage.”
Ten more paragraphs followed. He gave as much as he got.
Our daily writing continued through July and August—without one phone call or date (despite all the hints I threw at him). We wrote about everyday stuff: faith, family, food, church, music, work. After a while, I decided there would be much less pressure if we took our time getting to know each other by writing. (Besides, he really never gave me a choice.)
In early August, our relationship took an unexpected turn toward intimacy when he told me he had a big head (literally). I’d seen his picture on his profile so I bet him that he was wrong. To settle the argument, such as it was, we both simultaneously measured our heads and reported the results.
It was all over after that. I knew this guy was for me. Who else would use a 25’ Stanley measuring tape to measure his head for a woman who didn’t know the difference between “download” and “install,” one who would try to use a 12″ ruler to measure the circumference of hers?
The first time we spoke and met in person was on September 21, 2005. Since I was looking at his head from a good 12+” below him, it seemed a normal size to me. Even so that Christmas I got him a hat from BigHeadCaps.com. It fit.
My husband needs a big head if he’s going to live with me. Where else would he store the knowledge base he uses to help get me through my days? (See this blog for more on that.)
“And the Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.'” ~ Genesis 2:18 (KJV)
The Conversation
Oh, this is hysterical, he is JUST like you. In a good way. And I love your honesty about the technology part.
BUT…head size compatibility is a deal-breaker in some indigenous tribes. I don’t know which ones. I just made that up.
I love that you make weird stuff up. That’s what true friends do to amuse (and confuse) each other.
Thank you for making me laugh out loud! On both articles I read. 🙂
Glad to help, Melinda. Few things to laugh at these days–except maybe ourselves. 🙂
Thanks for sharing how you two got together, Clarice. I’m wondering how he waited three months to meet you. I bet your readers (me) would love to know more about that first meeting. Isn’t it fascinating how differently men and women think and respond to things. I have a son who is a meteorologist/oceanographer, and when I ask him what the weather is going to be, he just gives me a blank stare.
My husband is weather geek. He always has the map of the radar on his computer screen. Me? I fade out as soon as the meteorologist starts speaking. No, what I actually do is start talking to my husband while he’s trying to listen to the weather report. “I don’t like that dress she has on,” or “That color looks good on her. I wish I was a blonde. But what’s with the hairdo?” I’ve been trying to do better, but I catch myself all the time.
You forgot to reveal your head size to your fans….. just saying.
I’m afraid someone will get me a hat.
Wow Clarice this is so weird I almost put that phrase in my Christmas letter “not much to laugh at these days except maybe ourselves” a kind of literary deja vue…very strange.
Anyhow, I must say you are not comedicly challenged, go spell that for me!
Noreen
I was just thinking about you when I mentioned to David that I should blog a Christmas letter! Hope to make that my post for next week. We’ll have to get together after the holidays. Now I’m going to my dictionary to look up comedicaley, comedically, comedicaley . . . It’s probably an Irish word.
Loved reading this. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Ann. Love that you loved it!
I laughed all the way through. Thank you. You are perfect or each other.