Editor’s Note: He’s a hunka lunka burnin love. And here he is, your all-time favorite blogger, Matteo.

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Writing blog posts is a tiresome task for me unless I’ve got a worthy muse.  Or a nice bowl of mueslix. Today’s muse is my heart-on-her-sleeve, reserved yet resolved partner for life, Priscilla Band Hofmann. The mastermind behind this dope website you love to frequent. You may read this web log because you find what she says amusing.  You may come by to take a gander at the daily daguerreotype.  You may even come by to get a glimpse of her secret thought life that for some reason compels you to return each day.  You’ve learned a lot about the woman behind the light blue and yellow mask, but I want to give you insight into the day to day, dog walk to dog walk Experience.

The morning begins with our two alarm clocks playing call and response. Her alarm clock is across the room because there’s no room for a bedside table on her side of the bed. Why, you ask, is there no room? Well, because Berlin sleeps there, of course! Haven’t you been reading this blog at all? The needs of fluffy animals preclude any attention to her otherwise marginal personal preferences.  She’d happily stumble across the room 3 times a morning to hit the snooze (a bad habit I’m afraid I’m responsible for) just so that at any point in the night she can reach her hand down and scritch Berlin’s snout.

My schedule is variable, so I see Priscilla at different points during the morning routine. A few of my favorite elements: the sheet wrinkle mark on her cheek, the non verbal greeting/shrug during the first few lucid moments of the day, the pre-glasses grimace.  She’s never pretended to be “of the morning,” and why should she? Nothing fun happens in the morning. She’s got other parts of the day to focus on.  And as she will tell you, at any point in time she is having more fun than 9 out of 10 people in the immediate vicinity. Read those numbers and weep.

Throughout the work day there will come an occasional text message. Actual examples: “Guess who got a burrito with beans!”, “You are a reticulated giraffe.”, and “I love you more than I love Ikea.”  If one were given the task of summing up an individual’s personality based solely on that person’s text messaging, she would be a prime candidate. I mean, how much more would you need? Those of you who know her personally: Am I wrong?

But of course she’s so much more than that.

One of my favorite movie lines comes from As Good As It Gets with Jack Nicholson, or as we say in my family, Uncle Rich.  He plays an author who, when faced with the question of how he so accurately depicts women in his books, responds blithely: “I take a look at a man. Then I take away all reason and accountability.”  Priscilla and I battle about how different we are—“why do you have to be so rational all the time?” “I’m sorry, I just don’t see it any other way.”  For me, the five years we’ve been together have been an exercise in viewing the world through the eyes of a dreamer.  She may lament her generalist ways, but I’ve seen more great things accomplished by her in the past five years than I may be able to claim in my life.  Over 5 grand raised for breast cancer with 120 miles clocked on blistered feet.  A child in Burkina Faso comforted by her letters.  A workplace filled with people who know her faith.  Could any of these actions be called rational? And who’s keeping who accountable here?

Our evenings together consist usually of flopping on the couch in front of AFV and laughing at the fat guy on the slip’n’slide.  We do this because the work day is taxing.  Priscilla is a live-to-work turned work-to-live adherent, taking her highest joy from kicking back and enjoying the company of her family: the love-hungry puppy, the recalcitrant cat, and the guy who can’t seem to stop registering for more night classes.  Does she complain? Sometimes. You’ll have that.  Why shouldn’t she? I mean, I would.

But she lives for it. She lives for the good things in life: the excitement, the meaningful relationship, the connection between best friends.  Never let it be said that we’re only at half-throttle.  Because for her, that’s not a life worth living.  And I’ve learned volumes from this outlook.

Her music taste? Common knowledge. Her love for animals?  Please.  Her encyclopedic knowledge of sports? Bob Costas, go change your diaper.  We all know these things about Priscilla. But what you don’t know, dear reader, is what words can’t express.  And those things I will hold dear to the end, and gleefully keep all to myself.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 12th, 2008 at 6:15 pm and is filed under Family, Marriage. You can subscribe to any responses to this entry through the RSS feed. Don't be shy! Go ahead and leave a response, or trackback from your own site.