What do you mean, I look fine? at paper graffiti

This has been a very stressful weekend.

Why, you ask, has a weekend that has seen me do not much more than veg around the house, watch Buffy on DVD and cut coupons from the Sunday paper been SO stressful? Well, yesterday was rife with stress and nervousness.

I met my boyfriend’s parents.

Well, not actually all of his parents, because I have not met his mom yet. But last night we went to his dad & stepmom’s house for dinner in honor of the boyfriend’s birthday and Mother’s Day for his stepmom. I was thrilled by the invitation, because it is a big deal to me to meet parents. I don’t take just anyone home to meet Mom & Dad myself (don’t want them running for the hills too soon, really). Plus, I’ve been fielding questions right and left from friends asking if I had met his whole family yet. Until I finally met his brother, I was starting to think my boyfriend was ashamed of me. (Not really, but I kid him about it all the time.)

As thrilled as I was, I was also super nervous, which my boyfriend found incredibly funny. I have always been good with parents. My sweet, innocent-looking exterior skillfully masks the evil within. But for some reason, with my boyfriend I am giddy like a 15-year-old when it comes to really important stuff, which is why I was freaking out about meeting important family members. I don’t know what it is about our relationship that occasionally reduces me to a giggly nervous schoolgirl…and I did NOT want that to happen after a glass or two of wine.

I was still getting ready when he got here to pick me up, and of course when I stepped out of the bathroom and asked him if I looked OK, he answered, “Fine.” Now, all guys know that there are times this stock answer does NOT work. I mean, does “fine” mean “you don’t look like a hooker, so at least I can take you to meet my parents without shame?” Or does it mean, “I can’t believe you’re wearing that, but we’re going to be late if I stand here and tell you to change?” In my boyfriend’s case, it really does mean that I look just fine and there’s nothing wrong with my outfit. Or, depending on his inflection, it means I look damn fine. He’s not really one for bullshit smoke signals. But yesterday, when I was worried that my eyeshadow made me look like a woman of the night and that my gauzy peasant shirt made me look like too much of a hippie, “fine” wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I am such a girl sometimes.

Oh, and dinner did go well. They are very sweet people and I had a good time. Yay.

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