February 28, 2004
I was attending the University of Montana home of the Grizzlies (GO GRIZ). Now a month into my second semester at college and away from my Phoenix-based parents, I was getting into the swing of things. I'd passed all of my Fall classes, survived my first college boyfriend break-up (much eating of cake was involved) and managed to form a friendship with my college roommate.
Life was good. I was single and ready to mingle.
A few of the girls on my floor wanted to go out on Saturday night. They had been invited to a party close to campus. I agreed to go with them and offered to drive. I had been out late with family the night before celebrating the Missoula Hospice Ball and didn't feel like kicking up my heels too much.
So we arrived at the house. It was your typical college student house. Dirrrty and a little bit creepy. Well, a lot creepy. There were a few people we knew, but it was mostly people we had never met before. My friends went off to get drinks and I followed them, eyeing the crowd for people I knew.
A short(er than me) guy came up to my floormate Rhiannon and me. His shirt said, "Ab-tacular." I vaguely remember questioning him about why his shirt said that and listening to him, with his rough-voiced British accent tell us his name was Ab (short for Abdullah).
He chatted with us for awhile (my husband informs me that he was actually trying to hit on me) and then the crowds parted. Kind of. That's what it feels like now.
There was Jeff, my future husband.
He came over to help Ab out and I was immediately smitten with the tall boy with longer hair (than I was used to) and the suit jacket (green to be specific).
It's funny, looking back on that night. There was no denying the attraction. Jeff might have brought another girl with him to the party (scandalous), but from that night on I was his.
Now, there were a few bumps along the way of getting us to the "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" phase from this moment (it took us a good 11-months to figure out what we both wanted), but through the rough patches what we always came back to was how strongly we felt it was right to be together.
I will always look back fondly on the night I met my future husband. We chatted, danced, laughed a lot and smooched (gasp!). I also wrote my phone number on his hand- so classy.
Now, nearly six years later and into our third year of marriage I look at the beginning of our relationship and smile because of how that night still echos our marriage.
Jeffy and I talk to each other all of the time. Our marriage is strongly built on our communication skills. Sometimes it feels like we never shut-up.
We still dance with each other. Sometimes, on the most stressful of days, I will grab Jeff while he's with me in the kitchen and do a quick two-minute slow dance.
We smooch a lot. I love his lips.
And most importantly, we laugh. Life without laughter is like a mother without her child. Lost.
And there you have it- The Beginning.
And for proof: Here is our first picture and first actual date. This is actually like 8-months before we were officially dating at the Journalism School's Dean Stone Night. April 2004
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