Happy Anniversary - Two years in the making

Another year!!

Today, marks Ana and I's 2 year anniversary.  It's incredible how fast it feels as though you've been together much longer than the actual time.  (Got that?)  By this account, we should be celebrating our 10th year anniversary!  I guess that's when you know you have a great thing.  It just feels...fast.

So how did you meet your partner?  Because sooner or later the little one(s) is bound to ask. 

Do you have your story ready? 

Ours begins at a tiny, little MEGA CLUB called Stingaray in downtown San Diego...

I was wearing jeans and a green T-shirt with yellow letters that I'd purchased at a street fair in NYC four years ago.  The letters?  B R A Z I L.

How's that for serendipity?

But let's rewind.  I have an aunt Diane.  She has three kids of her own but she has something even more precious: grandchildren.  She loves her grandchildren.  Sit down with her.  She'll show you pictures.  Fellow scrapbookers, watch out!

One day (March 2006), she calls and tells me about her oldest grandchild's babysitter who is moving back to San Diego.  We'll call her Susan.  No..., we'll call her Darcy (because no one's ever named Darcy anymore). 

Anyway, Diane's thinking is very sweet.  Basically, it's along the lines of: I'm single, Darcy's single, I'm in LA, she's in San Diego, we should meet up.  Who knows, maybe there will be sparks?  Maybe even... BABIES.

Darcy and I exchange a few emails and while I'm not completely sold on her pictures, she's great in email and, truth is, it's an exuse to get down to San Diego.  I haven't been for awhile and I'm dying to go.  LA's great, but I'm ready to party in a new town.  We decide to spend the weekend together, she'll show me around.  My level of excitement is maybe a 7, but I leave room for an 8 or 9.  Surprises happen.

Well, two days later, "Come down for the weekend" turns into "Why don't you come down on Sunday?"  Probably her friends have banded together and asked "What happens if it doesn't work out?"  Good point.  But the idea of spending 2 hours in the car driving down to San Diego and then another 2 to come back the same day, so I can go to work the next morning isn't so appealing.  So I revert to Plan B.

I call my cousin. 

Annie aka Dr Reising graduates from UCLA this May.  Annie used to date a guy Greg in LA that recently moved to San Diego.  I ask her if she's up for a little trip to San Diego.  She is.  She even drives.

That saturday night, the three of us -- Annie, Greg & I -- hit a bar in Pacific Beach.  Turns out Greg's friend is celebrating his birthday.  Fun and high energy, we immediately hit it off.  He's got all the girls looking, including two hot asians.  Great equation, he says, as he likes to think in threes's...as in Threesomes.  In fact, his name's Mark Menage...because of his uncanny ability for threesomes.  Greg has pictures.

Yes, something was definitely in the "air"...

Mark Menage takes me under his wing.  We hit a few bars and then head downtown to Stingaray.  There, we dance with a couple of girls and then head upstairs when a girl rushes over and jumps in his arms.

They immediately start talking.  That leaves me and the girl's friend alone.  So we start talking.  Her name?  You guessed it.  Ana.

The girl that ran up to Mark Menage?  Yuko.

The rest they say is history.  Or, almost.

I still had to meet the other girl, Darcy Sunday morning.

My level of excitement now after meeting Ana?  A 2.  Not even.  A 1.7, maybe.  (I'd only had 2 hours of sleep.)

The short and sweet?  Great gal, but no sparks.

And yet...

And yet, had I never went to San Diego to meet Darcy...I never would have met Ana.

And, certainly, Mark Menage deserves some credit.  (We recently met up and he is still happily single.)

Our little one, I imagine, will listen to my story with rapt attention.  Afterwards, she'll be full of questions.  Were you really wearing a Brazil T-shirt?  Did you really meet mom at a club?  Did Darcy find true love?  What are threesomes?

I will say Yes, Yes, Yes and ...

Well..., I'm still thinking of that last part. 

...

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