In case you just got here, I used to be married. I met Marvin on my first day of my second year at Michigan State, which is weird because we’d lived in the same building the entire first year and we’d never met. It wasn’t technically the same dorm—he was on the other side of the building, in what was designated as a “quiet” dorm. At the time, I couldn’t imagine anything I wanted less than quiet.
But our cafeteria was the same, and a ton of our friends were too, which is how I got dragged over to his unsanitary off-campus house, where he lived with many boys I already knew. How did I never meet him? But there he was on the first day of year two.
He was my only case of love at first sight, ever.
The rest is a long story of dating two different times in college, followed by a 10-year breakup and eventual reuniting when I lived in Seattle and he lived in Los Angeles. Eventually I moved to LA, we got engaged, we got married and we stayed that way for 14 years.
During the years of writing of this interminable blog, we eventually separated and divorced and I sold that veil in a yard sale and Marvin moved to Atlanta and met someone with almost my same last name who seems very kind and he married her and that’s the end.
But occasionally someone here will ask about Marvin Gardens, my ex, who was a major character for the first five years. So I texted him the other day to ask if he’d like to update us on his life. “Sure,” he said, as I figured he would, because I still speak Marvin.
So without further ado, here is the update Marvin sent me, with my I-speak-Marvin interpretation in brackets.
Hello Beatle people! Here’s the latest update for 2002. [This is Marvin being funny, see.] I’ve been in Atlanta now for more than five years. Almost as long as I spent in high school! I was doing sound for feature films and TV shows for the last few years, but I’ve got a new job this year outside of the biz (be sure to check out my latest show “Labor of Love” on Fox this year). I’m working for a company that manufactures and sells audio equipment for classroom use.
Still happily (re)married for 3+ years now. Have a new addition to the family in the form of the Diego dog!
He’s a rescue from a litter of 9 (!) that some friends were fostering. He’s a sweet pup, but a real handful. Still trying to get him to do his business outside the house after a month of training. May need to invest in some doggie diapers. [To Marvin’s inevitably beleaguered wife: You may have wanted to read this before you got a puppy with him.]
Henry and Anderson Cooper are doing their best to adjust. [Dear Reader: Those are my cats that he got in the divorce. To be fair, I got the dogs, plus ridiculous Francis as a bonus parting gift.] Henry is still pretty nimble, so he is able to jump on tables to avoid getting nibbled on by the pup. Ampersand is too fat, so he just has to deal. [Marvin calls Anderson Cooper “Ampersand,” and I’ve no idea why, as Anderson Cooper was an excellent name.]
For the last couple years I’ve been plunking the bass in a cover band playing bad ’90s music (or a bad cover band playing ’90s music). Also just released a nearly four-hour ballad about the Apollo 11 moon landing under my stage name Rob Disner (now available on iTunes)!
Not much else to report at the moment. About to jump in the shower (although you should really just stand there and let the water run over you). Later peeps! [That shower joke was funny.]
Marvin also sent us photos of my cats, fmr., and here they are:
Oh my god, they are huge. I mean, I know Lily weighs 467 pounds. I just mean they seem big-bone-ded compared to my lithe girly cats and youthful Milhous. I wish to kiss Henry and Anderson C. many times. Henry is 11 now!
So that’s the update on that ex. Maybe we could ask my 10th-grade boyfriend what he’s up to.
Anyway, I have to go, but you know how I am, so remind me to tell you about having to go to the tattoo parlor to get my daith piercings removed as part of my pre-surgery prep. OH MY GOD. Must I constantly have to go places and be traumatized?
Also, “tattoo parlor.” Let me grab m’sassafras and m’FiffleFaddle and join you in a game of tiddlywinks.
Modernly and divorcedly,