2 years

2 years ago today, i was lucky enough to marry an amazing man.

in just over 2 months from today, i will have the privilege of watching him become an amazing father.

happy anniversary to my best friend, who makes me laugh a thousand times a day.  this year will be our most challenging, most exciting year yet, and i cannot wait to face it and live it with you.  i love you, monkey.  always and forever. 

remembering and celebrating

this weekend matt and i went back to hershey to attend a memorial service for a friend of mine who died back in february.  just a few days after his 32nd birthday, andy died from brain cancer, which he'd been fighting for more than 2 years.  he had been living in albuquerque, nm, so in february they held a very small funeral service for his family, but they wanted to be able to give his local hershey friends and family a chance to remember him.  so this saturday, about 60 people gathered to remember him and to celebrate the incredible person he was. 

i met andy my senior year of high school.  to be honest, i'm not even sure how we met.  i just know that immediately, he because one of my favorite people.  he was easy to be around.  he was funny in that way that kind of sneaks up on you - he's not trying to be outright funny, but his mind was just twisted enough that the things that come out of his mouth just crack you up.  andy was the guy who was friends with everyone.  it didn't matter who you were, what "group" you hung out with, or how "cool" you were.  pretty much as long as he could talk to you, he loved you, fiercely and loyally.  and he was always him.  he never apologized for who he was, or took himself to seriously, or changed anything.  he was andy.  that was it.  what you saw was what you got, and - like one of his friends said on saturday - either you were on the sheets train or you weren't.  he wasn't slowing down for anyone.  but man, if you went along for the ride, it was a special place to be. 

what i remember most about andy, and what i will carry with me forever, was his love of music.  the kid lived for it - any kind, any band, any venue - he breathed it.  he was an extremely talented guitarist, and i could sit for hours listening to him and our friend keith play.  it was andy who taught me to love music.  he taught me to really sit with a song and hear it.  he taught me to pick it apart and hear the guitar, hear the beat, hear the piano.  don't just listen to the melody, but hear the words.  he taught me to appreciate a musician's talent.  going to live shows with andy was exciting because he'd get so into the music.  he would lose himself.  in watching him, i learned to do that.  at concerts, you will most likely find me sitting/standing there, eyes closed, just swaying and moving to the music.  i attribute that to andy. 

saturday was our chance to get together and remember all of that.  there were probably 30 "students" at the memorial, and i'd say 20 of us went to the troeg's brewery afterwards.  i spent most of the day with keith, with whom most of my memories of andy are tied.  but we did spend some time with the big group, and it was so great to hear people exchanging stories about him.  even if it was a story i wasn't familiar with or hadn't been a part of, even if i hadn't known who they were talking about, i could have guessed it was andy.  because andy was just.so.andy.  and that's what everyone loved about him. 

he will be missed by many.  but it is clear that he will live on in all of us. 

awkward

so i take the train to work every day.  can i just tell you how much i love taking the train?  in the morning it gives me a chance to mentally ready myself for the day.  and in the afternoon?  oh, that afternoon train ride is heaven.  septa has this program called quiet ride, where the first car of every train is the quiet car.  no cell phones, no talking, and if you listen to music, it has to be low volume so your neighbors can't hear it (i can't tell you how annoying it is when you can hear someone's music over your own).  i always sit in the quiet car on my way home.  even if there are no seats, i will stand rather than sit in a regular car.  it is the perfect place to unplug and decompress from my day.

anyway.  after riding the same train for 5 years, you start to make what i lovingly refer to as "train friends."  there is a guy who used to share a seat with me every day, and eventually we started talking.  we've been sharing a seat and talking for about 2 years now, but i have no idea what his name is.  i prefer it that way.  for a long time it was nice to have a buddy on the train.  we didn't talk about anything of substance, really.  mostly about sports or funny stories we heard on the news.  but lately it's gotten weird.  he's started acting like, i don't know, like we're actual friends.  you know how when you're friends with someone, and they're trying to get past you, you might fake-trip them or hit them as they walk by?  it's a silly little gesture, but to me, it's something reserved for people that you're on a more intimate level with.  well, he started doing this to me.  i usually sit on the inside of the seat, even though i get off the train first.  so he has to get up to let me out at my stop.  in the past few months, this moment has become uncomfortable for me.  there has been a few times where he's hit my back as i walk by, dangerously close to my ass.  he's married, and i know he knows i'm married, but i definitely feel like he's flirting with me.  and i really am feeling skeevy about it.  it's gotten to the point where i feel relieved when he's not at the train station because i don't have to deal with it.  this morning, he got on the train way ahead of me, and i acted like i didn't see him and sat by myself. 

i'm not really sure what i should do.  avoiding him seems to be the easiest thing, but it's certainly not the most mature option.  part of me feels like i should address it, but then, what if i'm way off base?  then i'll just feel like an asshole.  what do you think i should do?