8 years together, 5 years married, 4 years as parents and another on the way ...

Thought I'd do the soppy-mushy tale that is our (dare I say) 'love story'. Why the sudden urge to blog on this? Well, yesterday marked our 8 years together as a couple, a pair, an item.

So, story goes like this ...

The year was 1999. I was living on my own in our humble lil square of an apartment in Stamford Brook, London. Loving the independence of being on my own, tending to my own needs, waking up and going to bed at my own time, shopping for groceries that may not necessarily read food to others but to me - cereal is just ideal for all 3 meals in the day - , enjoying morning weekend walks to get the papers and fresh flowers, it was all just lovely.
I was basically your typical foreign student living in a foreign land, attending lectures and classes and then doing a bit of socialising over the weekends. Those who know me from back then will recall that by socialising, it's purely trips to the shops and cafes and the movies. Am no party girl at all. Not the clubbing type either. Have always preferred smaller, more intimate crowds of friends rather than throwing myself all glammed up in some club and/or party scene to be seen and noticed and chatted up. If you like, I was, put simply, a very dull undergrad. *LOL* Which correspondingly explains a lot of things.

I know of some parents who'd remind their kids to slow down in their relationships, to finish their studies first, then only think about being in a relationship. In my case, it got to a point where phonecalls back home were often dotted with queries on who I was dating and more specifically, why was I not dating anyone yet. (!!) It's simple, really. I don't go out as often as I suppose I'm allowed to, I don't talk as much and open up as much as I'm allowed to and I just really did enjoy the time I had to myself. Of course, the longing part of having a decent guy to call your boyfriend, your date and possibly your future life partner was all very appealing too, but I was pretty much accepting the fact that I'll only meet my man after graduating, and possibly through my parents or siblings arranging something for me once back home for good.

But then things took a different route come October '99. It was just over 2 months in my 2nd year at uni when I was entertaining the likes of online chatrooms (something a fair number of M'sian students indulged in over in the UK). They were all petty chats on my part. Until that one night when I ended up chatting with this guy who was studying in Southampton. Let's call him Mr M for now. Turns out he had heard of me before. That got me talking to him longer. I was curious to know how he knew me. Or rather, know of me.

Mr M was flatmates with a male 'cousin' of mine. I knew no male cousin studying in Southampton. Incidentally, I did have a cousin there, but a girl and in her 1st year. Mr M told me my alleged cousin flatmate of his is in his final year there. Hmm . . . He then told me it's my 'cousin' Iskandar. Iskandar? At the time, the ONLY Iskandar I knew was a close friend of my parents. Went on to say he lives in Bangsar. Again, a Bangsar-ian myself, I really couldn't think of any relation of mine by the name of Iskandar. After some 10 minutes or so trying to put a face to this so-called cousin, Mr M (who, incidentally by that time, we had discovered we'd met previously in London through a mutual friend) told me he'd get the said-Iskandar to chat with me. Waited a bit for him to call his flatmate and soon enough I was chatting away to my-apparent-cousin Iskandar. He finally introduced himself as Izmet, anak Uncle Ramli and Auntie Maznah. Aaaahhhhh ... yes. Yup, I DO know you after all, I was thinking. So it turns out, his full name's Izmet Iskandar. I know him as Izmet, but people in Southampton know him as Iskandar. And yes, he'd mentioned me to his flatmate, Mr M, once or twice before, which was how he recognized me almost immediately. (when i asked Izmet later in our relationship why he had mentioned me to Mr M before, he said he had spotted me once in London, when I was talking to his sister, but that he was too shy to approach me ... hehe)

We continued our online chat over the phone. And the phonecall lasted 6 hours! It was somewhat refreshing to chat to a guy I hadn't met in years, but one I knew of since practically forever. See, his dad is related to my mum through marriage. Not the closest of relations, so if anyone of you reading this is shaking your head and thinking how it's all a great big no-no of a union, rest assured, it's all OK. We caught up on each other's lives - what each was studying there in the UK (he was a final year Accounting & Finance student, I was a 2nd year Marketing Communications student) as well as how our respective families are doing. He then mentioned he comes up to his family's London apartment once every 2 weeks to check on things - namely the bills and to water the plants. He suggested we meet the next time he was up in London.

And met up in London we did. Izmet would gladly tell all how I arrived 10 minutes late for our first date. In my defense, I blame it on the District Line - fondly known for it's less-than-punctual services. Date was Italian dinner followed by the movies. Not the most romantic of movie choice though - it was The Sixth Sense. Dinner was great, movie's one of my all-time favourites now (and no, not because it was our date movie). After, he sent me home as it was pretty late at night, and he didn't want me to take the tube on my own. Fair enough. Sent me home, and we both immediately agreed to meet again the next day before he took his train back to Southampton. So, before he left for his apartment, we made arrangements to meet a second time the next day. The next day's 'date was lunch followed by us (boring) students finishing up our respective pieces of assignments before the Monday arrived. We said goodbye late afternoon. I took the tube home, he the train to his uni halls.

It was a good weekend. I could talk to him easily. No doubt, there was that shy streak in me still, but I suppose knowing each other's family since childhood helped a lot too. I knew here's a guy I could trust. Someone I need not go all out to impress as after all, he already knows who I am. Following that first weekend date then, we were on the phone with each other everyday. We'd speak briefly in the mornings before heading to our respective campuses, and then a longer phonecall at night, before going to bed. Our email inboxes were filled up too in between lectures and classes. Seeing how it all seemed to work rightly, we finally decided to 'go official' on the 11th November 1999 - this, 2 weeks after our first phonecall and first weekend date.

Which brings us back to yesterday. Yesterday, the 11th of November 2007. It's been 8 years. We've been together for 8 years now. I told him it feels more like 20 years as on our not-the-greatest-of-days, it's definitley been tiring dealing with each other's neediness and pettiness and fussiness. But, what's marriage without all of the above-said gloriness, huh? *LOL*
Most days though, I'm just real glad I've a certain Iskandar to call my life partner. He's definitely one who keeps me grounded, supports me and cares for me. We aren't romantics at all, but I'm confident of his loyalty towards me. He's a great dad too and my ever-willing-to-but-rarely-prompt assitant around the house. Well, it could be worse really. So yes, am thankful for that online chat, the fact that Mr M remembered my name and quickly called his flatmate Mr Iskandar, the phonecall which followed, the first date, the subsequent phonecalls and the decision to live our lives together.

Just to mark the date, we got engaged on the 11th November 2001. Incidentally, it was my dad's idea we picked that very date as he knew it was a significant date for us. And I'm glad that we did. Not only does it make it easy to remember when we got engaged, but it also brings me down memory lane each year thereon. We got married on the 8th of August 2002. Another nice date, I'd like to think.

Yesterday, to 'celebrate', we had dinner at Mizu in BV (minus the Big Z - left him with my parents and sister). It's nice to just have that one quiet dinner alone. For someone who almost never leaves her son behind, such dinner dates are most welcomed. But, as soon as we picked Z up, I was hugging and kissing him non-stop. Am such a soppy mom, I tell ya!

So. That's my soppy story for today then.