Thursday, September 2, 2010

Back to the beginning

I'm taking a cue from Kerry today. It's been a pretty insane week at work so far (lunch at 4pm? Totally normal.), and that just hasn't left me a lot of headspace for thinking of pretty much anything else. Earlier this week, a good friend asked us how D. and I met (she had heard it was a good story), and I realized that, though you've been reading my ramblings for a whole month, you all know comparatively little about us and our relationship, and, yes, how it all began.*

Backdrop: I had just emerged (triumphant) from a 3-year, messy, dysfunctional, terrible-for-me relationship a few days earlier. Arriving home from a long shift at The Gap (oh hey, fellow former retail employees), I learned that my roommates were attending a black light party in another dormitory, a senior dormitory, that evening. I didn't know the people throwing the party, and, as a sophomore in college, blacklights and parties were not a regular part of my social scene. I declined. Until, eventually, I was persuaded.

It is worth noting here that I was an exceptionally well-behaved young adult. Testament to this is the very, very small amount of alcohol I was encouraged to drink that night and the enormous effect it had had on me by the time we reached this fated party. It was a significant enough effect, in fact, that I had to take a respite from the dancefloor on the nearest available place to sit, which happened to be right next to... you guessed it.

As D. tells this story, he had noticed me from the moment I walked in the room - hard to miss, I suppose, with highlighter all over me - and that would explain why, shortly after I sat down, he leaned over and asked me to change the music. Apparently he didn't like this particular song. I did my best, but, electronics not being my specialty, I managed to cut off the music for the entire party. Awesome. Great embarrassment followed, which may or may not have been accompanied by me burying me head in D.'s shoulder. And that, my friends, is how history is made.**

Not exactly a great tell-it-to-the-grandkids story, but inauspicious beginnings led to great things...

D. may kill me for this, but there we are, not long after meeting.
Happy and oh-so-young.

*Incidentally, I love hearing these little stories about the relationships of the women whose blogs I follow.
**In case you're interested, the evening really ended when my best friend walked up to me and said: "You can give him your number, but you're coming home with me."

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