His Story

Murphy and I met a few times.  

The Mount’s pre-orientation.  Parties at the “rugby house”.  LSATs.  Senior prom dinner.

However, despite all these soft nudges from the universe, I think we are both grateful that our story together didn’t begin until grad school.  An otherwise forgetful marketing class fatefully placed Murphy in the seat directly behind mine. 

There was some pre and post class small talk, and after a few practice-runs in my head, I mustered up the courage, and asked Murphy out for a beer at the one and only Ott House.

She agreed.

The date was all set up.  Next Monday, September 5, 2011.

Monday came, and it was pouring rain.  In fact, it was raining so hard that by the time I made it from the academic building to Murphy’s apartment my hair was dripping, my clothes were slightly translucent, and my sneakers make an awful squashing noise with each step.

Not looking my best, but nonetheless, undeterred, Murphy and I jumped in my old Subaru and headed off to Otts.  But after arriving at Otts, in a mythical twist of circumstance, it seemed the date I had planned just wasn’t meant to be.  There was a sign on the locked Ott House door.

Closed.  Labor Day.

It’s still raining.  At least now we’re both soaked.  Back to the Subaru.  Back to the Mount.

Determined not to let the unfortunate events of the night thus far stop me from charming my beautiful date, I knew I had to think fast.  There was still an option, albeit, a long shot.

Chicken tenders and French fries at the Mount café it was.

But sitting in a booth, soaking wet, the night turned around, and it wasn’t due to an abundance of fried food.  It was the woman sitting across from me. The night went late, the conversations went deep, and ultimately a meaningful connection was forged.

Looking back, I can trace, step by step, everything to that pivotal night.

I’d like to think that in that moment I had the foresight to know this was the first of many dates with the woman I would marry six years later, but truthfully, I didn’t yet understand the magnitude of the encounter.

But I do know I was excited for date number 2, after all, I still owed her a beer at Otts…

Happily, Ever After

Her Story

I remember the first time I saw Jonathan like it was yesterday– right down to the seat he was sitting in. It was 2007, and the first day of college. I noticed my handsome, future husband was casually sitting on a bench outside of Terrace talking and laughing with a group of people.

He was the first guy that I noticed in college, and as soon as I saw him I thought “Oh, check out that cute guy!” I’m a sucker for hippie dudes with dreadlocks, and Jonathan had them.

Fast forward four years– nearly to the day–and I see Jonathan again, this time in was the first class of the MBA program. Jonathan was the only somewhat familiar face in a sea of strangers. I had seen him a handful of times throughout college, but we had different friends and were involved in different activities. Looking back, we bounced around each other quite a few times– never really getting the chance to meet until the moment was perfect. I was again struck by how cute he was, and remembered the first day of college. I smiled and said hi as I walked past, and sat down in the row behind him so I could check him out without him noticing. Jonathan turned around, and struck up a conversation (where I mentioned his old dreadlocks, of course!). 

Our first date– as ‘friends,” or so I told myself– was supposed to be at The Ott House (where else!?), but when we arrived we discovered that it was one of the two days a year that it’s closed. We drove back to campus, sprinted through the rain, and arrived soaking wet to the Mount Cafe. Over quesadillas and french fries, he asked me why I was a vegetarian, and questioned me on what qualified the hierarchy between plants and animals. No one had ever asked me that before, and when I sat back stunned because I couldn’t answer, I knew this guy was special.

Throughout the next few months, I discovered that we had the same sense of humor, had a surprising amount of things in common (like what we wanted to name our firstborn daughter!), and that even the most basic of conversations could get pretty deep. That still holds true today, and is one of my favorite qualities of his.

The guy I saw across the Terrace water fountain ten years ago doesn’t have dreadlocks anymore, but is still kind, thoughtful, intelligent, handsome, and funny. I didn’t know it then, but he would become the love of my life, and I fall more in love with him every day.