Can you believe it’s been nearly four years since I started keeping this blog?
And that in all that time, I have never posted a photo of my husband (who also prefers not to have his name mentioned) here?
A lot of people have written to me to ask why He Who Shall Not Be Named In This Blog prefers not to be named (or pictured ) in this blog. The answer is, he is just (unlike me) a very private person. If you are the spouse of a not-so-private person, and you yourself are very private, life can be trying.
Particularly if you are the very private male spouse of a not-so-private female author of books that are popular primarily with teenage girls, and your interests lie in college basketball and cooking, and not, say, Britney Spears and Degrassi Next Generation. You might, in fact, even find these things confusing and incomprehensible (particularly lately–although I will say that HWSNBNITB was willing to give South of Nowhere a try, but for reasons I soon found had nothing to do with why I like it).
HWSNBNITB is not just private on the Internet. He is private in real life, too. For instance, when we first moved here, and Captain Bob’s adorable children asked what his name was, HWSNBNITB told them to call him Mr. Egnatz,* even though all the other adults in the neighborhood (many of whom who are older than we are, some by nearly twice as much) allow them to call them by their first names.
(*Yes, that’s really his last name. It’s Hungarian. Now you have some insight into why I kept my maiden name—besides the whole part about my liking my name and not caring to give it up just because I got married. Not that there is anything at all wrong with the last name Egnatz…except that if I’d taken it, I’d be Meg Egnatz. Or, as some of my so-called friends like to call me when they’ve had too many beers, Megnatz).
(Um, I can totally hear you laughing.)
(I can still hear you.)
Anyway, it’s not that I haven’t longed to put a picture of HWSNBNITB on this blog. It is just that he said I could only post photos of him on this blog if they didn’t show his face. Like this:
Slutty-McSlut-A-Lot and HWSNBNITB.
Look away, vegetarians.
But this was strangely unsatisfying to me, because I could never post photos of us TOGETHER. Because of course, not being a private person at all, I don’t want MY head cut off in photos on my blog. Although truthfully given the fact that I travel so much for work AND we live in Key West–a place where shoes and shirts are not only NOT required for service, they are actively discouraged–it is not often that HWSNBNITB and I ever even get our picture taken together, or at least when we’re both wearing nice outfits.
Until the other night.
Yes! The other night, HWSNBNITB and I got invited to a ball given to raise money for a local theater here in Key West! I wore an evening gown, and HWSNBNITB rented a tux! And someone took our picture!
So finally, at long last, here it is…a picture of HWSNBNITB and I TOGETHER! (Many thanks to my friend Jen for solving the problem of how not to show HWSNBNITB’s face, while still showing mine):
Doesn’t he look cute in his tux???
But the really big news is that I WON the bidding war on the item I wanted in the charity auction. Prepare yourselves, because this is some serious bling, people:
WAHOO! Yessss! Who needs a driver’s license now? I finally pimped my ride.
Well, I have to go now. I have to give my dress back to the person I borrowed it from (a former model who lives down the street), and HWSNBNITB has to take his tux back to the rental place. Alas, our glamour lasted for one night only.
But maybe when we’re in Europe next week, someone will take our picture together again (get ready with the smiley face stickers, Jen).
In the meantime, if you’d like to know the meaning of life (I revealed it in the keynote address I gave at the Romance Writers of America National Convention last summer), you can find out by clicking here (download available for the first time, absolutely FREE)! I talk about some other stuff, too…like how I finally managed to get published after many years of rejection, and what it was like to meet Julie Andrews, and the incredibly brilliant and witty thing I said to her upon that occasion (not).
Believe me, you don’t want to miss it.
Gotta go—we are packing for our European tour—we leave on Friday. We have friends staying over to catsit, so we are creating a Cat Care Guide outlining the things they need to know in order to care for Henrietta and Slutty-McSlut-A-Lot while we are gone.
So far it is 30 pages long.