This is a favorite picture of mine from my childhood. My mother made this Halloween costume for me one year and I just loved it. I think I made a pretty darn cute bat too! ; - ) If I'm not mistaken, I think my sister dressed up as a devil that year; also made by my mom.
I've given you the background of me and my family so now I'll tell you about some of my interests. As a child, I took ballet for a number of years. I was enamored with the grace of ballerinas and also the tutus, sequins, and costumes they wore. I think in total, I took ballet for around 12 years all through high school and a couple classes in college. It was not the same in college, but I think I was still trying to hold onto the dream that maybe one day I could be a ballerina despite my obvious lack of superstar talent. Still, the memories I have of those days are wonderful and I wouldn't trade them for anything.
Choir was another one of my favorite activities throughout middle and high school. As with ballet, singing was definitely not my calling, but I loved the class. In high school, my choir got to sing in Carnegie Hall for a concert. My mom was even able to come watch it. I know it was a very proud moment for her as well as me! Choir was such a big part of my high school experience. This is probably why I am such an advocate for keeping the arts in schools. The feeling of belonging to a group and doing something you love is so important.
Fast forward a bit to my last semester of college. (I promise you're not missing too much...if I think of anything good, there's always rewind.) This last semester is when I met my husband, Sean. It seems the story of how we met gets embellished for the laugh factor, but I'll tell the real story. Sean will probably "correct" me in the comments later on, but here's my version. I was out with some good college buddies of mine celebrating a birthday at an often frequented bar of mine and Sean's when the inevitable bathroom break came about. As my friend and I approached the bathroom, I started to groan when I saw the line. (Men always make fun of women for going to the bathroom together, but have they ever seen the line at a bar on a Saturday night? We need the company!!) When we discovered the reason for the line was a girl passed out in the bathroom, it became obvious that this would definitely be a long wait. Just then, the bathroom attendant, Schmitty (I told you I frequented this place), flagged my friend and I into the men's bathroom. Now, up until this moment I would have never used the men's restroom, but at that moment he was insistent that we use the stall to shorten the line. Who am I to argue with Schmitty and my bladder? So in my friend and I went. Averting our eyes, we shared the stall and got out as quickly as possible then went to wash our hands. If you stop the story here, Sean will say we met in the men's room as he was washing his hands (an EXCELLENT quality in a man I might add), but he was actually introduced to my friend. I tell people he saw me, but didn't know my name.
The rest of the story goes like this. For the rest of the night, as I made my numerous bathroom breaks, he stood in one spot near the end of the bar and conveniently located at the end of the hallway near the bathrooms watching me go by. I'm not oblivious so eventually I just waved to let him know that I had noticed him noticing me. Finally, toward the end of the night, fueled by liquid courage and my acknowledgement, he made his move. As I was coming out of the bathroom for the last time of the night, Sean flagged me over to talk to him. He was so polite for a guy in a bar and obviously nervous! Not, a drunken jackass like I had encountered before. He said, "I would be honored if you would give me your number." Now, here's where the story kind of goes sideways. In my head, I was thinking "Man. A guy in a bar is asking me out. This won't go well." I didn't want to be mean, so I just said, "Well, I don't have a pen" hoping this would be enough to dissway him from pursuing my number (To this day Sean doesn't believe I didn't have a pen because I always have pens now. I really didn't). Little did I know, he had a bartender friend with many pens so there he was, writing my number on his hand.
In the dating world, there is a well known rule that dictates a guy should wait three days to call after getting a girl's number. Fortunately for Sean, I don't generally follow or even care about those rules. I was actually pretty surprised when he called me the next day and he was articulate AND seemed normal. I kind of freaked out a bit when he suggested we go rock climbing on our first date because I am a notoriously klutzy and non-athletic person. Thank goodness he agreed to a conventional dinner date which turned out to be the absolutely best first date of my life.
So, we met on a Saturday, talked on a Sunday, and went out on our first date on a Monday. And the rest, as they say, is history. I realize I've gone way over the length of what a blog should be, but when you're on a roll you have to go with it. I have many more stories to tell about Sean and I, but I also have a looming deadline for donation pieces. Until I can blog again, check a picture of my love and I on our wedding day in Jamaica. Ain't we cute?