Today is my five-month anniversary with the Knight. The sixth day of the month marks the first night we kissed. The night I landed at O'Hare from Las Vegas and realized way late — after he'd driven around the west side of Chicago looking for me and eventually showed up at my apartment, just hoping he'd find me at home and safe — that he was interested in me. It was all over but the family drama from there. On one of our first real dates — a picnic of sticky barbecue sandwiches, fresh apples and chocolate-covered Oreos in Millennium Park, followed by a walk along the lakefront — he played it old, old fashioned. He showed up at my front door showered, shaved and nervous — with flowers and a little gift for me. The gift was an Uglydoll, a little one-eyed monster — no kidding — made of dark-blue fleece. It looks a lot like a swimmy little sperm. We'd just been talking about the dolls — he sends them to his daughters sometimes — and he picked one up the day before our outing because he knew I'd always found them adorable.
I named it Gunther.
He's brought me other little tokens since we started seeing each other — a tiny plastic rabbit, a pastel-colored stuffed owl and even a beautiful, very grown-up necklace from a shop in our neighborhood — but Gunther has a special spot in my heart and among the many functionless pillows on my bed. And on the few nights the Knight isn't with me in this bed, Gunther is. He's sitting right here, actually. (Say hello.) We're listening to Josh Ritter, and he's distracting me from blogging. Actually, that may be the Carmenere I've just enjoyed at the bar up the street.
I was thinking tonight, as I methodically moved all the pillows and decorative coverings from my bed to crawl between the pumpkin-hued sheets, how delightful utterly idiotic it would be to write an entire series of posts entitled, "Blogtime with Gunther." Obviously, I'm a serious writer with no intentions of doing that. Never fear. But this was one of those long days at work where focus came slowly if at all, and tonight seems to be no different. Blame the wine, blame my exhaustion, blame the fact that there are barely enough hours in the day for me to wake up and get my head on straight before it's time to sleep again — let alone do good work.
So on this five-month anniversary of our first kiss, I wait here for one more post-class kiss from the Knight. Until then, blogtime with Gunther becomes bedtime with Gunther.