Correction

One night after an embarrassing moment, Eugenio advised, "Keep that to yourself; don't blog about it." No worries, I mostly blog compromising information about you, not myself, though I appreciate the concern.

Let it be known that I have Neno's permission to talk about (some) of the things that take place behind our apartment door. I texted him one morning before clicking Publish, "Do you mind if I talk about your farting on my blog?" He responded, "Which one? From last night?" (I found that response hilarious).

But then he read my blog and took issue with the honeymoon post. "The stuff about the lingerie, yadi, yadi, yadi and saying '10 minutes later' was a bit TMI...And it was more than 1o minutes, more like 20." Duly noted.

Call of B/Duty

Was that a booty call?! I screamed, coming out of the restroom, realizing Eugenio was already back on the couch, clothed and playing Call of Duty. Not long before, I told him I was going to bed early, and he sweetly joined me....then returned to his game after he got what he came for. Did you just hit-it-and-quit-it?! I said laughing at his gall. "I'm sorry, bebita. No, I hit-it-and-married-it!" he replied giving me a guilty hug before adding, "Wham-bam-you-married-me-ma'am!"

I like giving Neno a hard time for playing Call of Duty, although I'm not actually bothered by his vice. Knowing and seeing on a daily basis how much of a dorky manchild my Rico Suave Latin Lover truly is, is more charming than bothersome. Check out my avatar. Do you like it? Plus I get to sleep in our teeny bed all alone for hours each night. I hate body heat.

Back in our early days, he brought me to his apartment to watch a movie on our third date. I was incredibly nervous about going to his apartment; I didn't want him to think he was going to get lucky. I'm actually shy and a prude, believe it or not. After watching Gran Torino followed by sitting in awkward silence, Neno asked if I wanted to watch the beginning of Transformers 1, since Transformers 2 was coming out soon and he wanted us to go see it. On a side note, I've seen a lot of bad movies these past two years in the name of love; I'm sure Neno says the same for himself. I had no desire to see Transformers anything. My roommate and I joked that the popularity of Transformers was like grown women flocking to watch a My Little Pony blockbuster. So naturally I said, "Sure! Sounds great!" Halfway through the movie (I kept wondering when "the beginning" was supposed to end), Neno turned to me and asked, "So Hanna, which transformer is your favorite?" Um, I don't have a favorite. Uh, which one is yours? "Optimus Prime!" he cheered making a fist...OK. And then we sat in more awkward silence.

I think we made out for the first time after that. He wooed me with his charming dorkiness.

I like to remind Neno of his smooth transformers line from time to time. We haven't progressed much.

humility

I strive for kindness at all times, but some days I'm in want. My job is an exercise in patience.

When my mind shouts something like, READ THE DIRECTIONS, DAMNIT, in retrospect I always hope my face didn't display my thoughts, even if I feel my rattling nerves are warranted. I hold firmly to the notion that adults should at least try for self sufficiency.

Sundays are busy -- lots of people, lots of questions, and lots of helping lots of people. Thus, today, twenty minutes into my shift, I stopped for a moment to ask for patience...or for the day to go by quickly.

Not long after my appeal for divine intervention, I helped an older gentleman fill out a food stamp account online. I must admit, my patience was wearing thin as I had to help him navigate through the seemingly simple, user-friendly website step by step, repeating and re-explaining things like "zip code," "security question," and "username." Not your 'name', but what you want to use as your log-in name when you use this website....OK fine, you can use your name but you need some numbers in there too. Thirty minutes and three failed attempts at creating a usable username and password later, we finally succeeded. I urged him to write down the website and his account information so that he wouldn't forget...then I thought better and wrote it down for him, explaining the process of getting to the website and logging in once more. He was a kind man, obviously trying to teach himself. I've seen him practice typing during his sessions in the past. He thanked me profusely for my time adding shyly, "I'm so dumb." That made my heart sink. I told him, "No, your not. You're fine. You're learning!" There's patience punched in my face.

my funny, flatulating husband

I unleashed a spell when I put the ring on his finger. Now that we're married, Eugenio is funny -- his comebacks are quick-witted and hilarious. I told him this revelation one morning.

"What do you mean? I've always been funny." No, usually your jokes fell flat. "But you always laughed." I was being nice, but now I laugh because you're actually funny. "No, through time you're sense of humor has become more sophisticated" he quipped back.

Other than his new found hilarity, not much has changed now that we are legally bound. I haven't changed my name and Eugenio still flatulates in his sleep. However, one night -- this is so sweet -- he almost got up to go to the restroom, then lied back down in defeat, pulling the covers tightly around his body. "I'm sorry. I was going to try to make it to the restroom, but it escaped," he said referring to the stench. That is love. He is so genuine and kind.

I love my funny, flatuating husband.

Luna de miel

This is how romantic the first night of marriage was for us: in the morning Eugenio announced with gusto, "Bebita, I was bombarding you with farts last night!" Yes he was....

With that, we packed up the hotel room, got on a plane to Orlando, and drove to Miami Beach the following day. The first night of our honeymoon was Valentine's Day. We made an early reservation, the only slot available, at Tantra, which I selected mostly because all the reviews described it as "erotic." I figured that would be a good start.

They totally played up the sexy, erotic vibe. The waitresses at Tantra were all hot and wore tight, short red dresses with heals. We were seated at a red couch in a room so dark that we needed flashlights to see the menus. I get it, everyone looks wonderful when your drunk and the lights are off. Nevermind what we ate -- yes, it was good and expensive. We drank a delicious, sweet bottle of champagne (Something Imperial Nectar -- I requested another bottle for my birthday) and washed it down with a bottle of red wine. I've never made it to the bottom of four glasses of anything alcoholic without puking, and this wasn't an exception.

Sauced and stuffed, we went back to our swanky hotel where I attempted to look sexy with my food baby. Eugenio navigated through the stringy lingerie, yadi yadi yada, and ten minutes later, with a tornado in my stomach, I was throwing up all that expensive wine and champagne. Eugenio politely closed the bathroom door behind me, got in bed, and continued to bombard me with farts throughout the night. What a cute couple we are.

The rest of the honeymoon was relaxing and fun -- we basically hung out on the beach and the hotel pool during the day and ate like kings at night. One morning Eugenio went running with me on the beach, which I loved. Running on the beach was a difficult workout with ridiculous/pleasant scenery and background noise(waves crashing and seagulls singing). I enjoy South Beach when no ones around, like in winter, and hope to go back with Eugenio someday soon.