Twenty Bucks I'm Going To Marry Him

I love Facebook, really I do. I enjoy the ability to "stalk" people from the comfort of my home and be notified at the EXACT moment that an acquaintance from high school moves from "single" to "in a relationship." Almost a year ago, I was impatiently waiting on my new pink laptop to arrive and needed a way to pass the time. At this point I only had 100 friends or so and I think I went through every single person's page. My friend Tara, the mother of one of the boys in my kindergarten class, had posted new photos of the kids. I wanted to see what my little babino was up to since I left Charlottesville Catholic and low and behold I ran across a photo of Christopher being "Santa'd."

Now let me explain what it means to be Santa'd. Tara has this creepy plastic statue of St. Nick that is approximately the size of a second grader. In order to spread the holiday cheer all year long, her and the kids stash Santa in random places with the hopes of scaring the living daylights out of the victim. Santa has been put in refrigerators, closets, under the covers, and in Chris's case - the bathtub. After the victim has regained sanity, Tara makes sure to take a photograph of Santa getting some love. Here is the picture I ran across on Wednesday, January 23, 2008.

Chris giving Santa some sugar.

Since I am a classy girl, I was IMMEDIATELY attracted to the young man embracing a Santa in the bathtub. (Mind you at this point, I didn't know what Santa'ing was). Half jokingly I sent Tara an e-mail that read,

"Who is Chris and where can I get one?"

Apparently that's all you need these days to get asked out on a date. Suzie and I went to Catechism and Tara checked Christopher's availability and he e-mailed me. Within an hour we were on the phone making plans to meet the next night for coffee. After rummaging through 8 outfits and 3 fits of hyperventilation, I was ready to go. The second he walked in the door of Starbucks my nerves went through the roof. I ended up spilling my double shot of espresso (good for the stability of my hands) ALL over the table. That's not the embarrassing part though. The embarrassing part is that I pretended it didn't happen. I IGNORED the mess and kept rambling about Lord knows what. Chris had to actually stop me and clean the spill himself. I am quite the catch.

He asked me out for the next night and I went to his house on the other side of town. We just hung out and talked for a few hours and when I left I called Robin and said, "Twenty bucks, I'm going to marry him." I'm still waiting on my twenty, Fox. So I guess it wasn't love at FIRST sight, but more like second.