One year ago today, Michael proposed.  I don’t think I’ve ever written about how we met, at least not the full story, so here goes:

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It was late June of 2009, two weeks after I graduated from UCLA and moved home to San Francisco.  I was 22, excited about being back on familiar stomping grounds, and ready to conquer SF’s eligible bachelors.

Then came a fateful night of drinks with my childhood piano teacher at the Cliff House.  A graduate of Julliard, Jennie became my piano teacher when I was 6.  She basically watched me grow up through many agonizing hours of lessons.  And while I was at UCLA, she had become best friends with Rebeca, Michael’s mother.

So Jennie and I were at the Cliff House, catching up and chatting, and Jennie throws out the idea that I should go on a blind date with her best friend’s son.  Worst idea ever right?  Blind dates are always terrible.  But I couldn’t exactly say no to Jennie.  So I delayed.  ”Let’s Facebook-stalk him first,”  I said.  Maybe he had some damning photos and I could gracefully bow out.  All of his pictures were of his muscled military days, in camouflage, toting a gun, or bare-chested.

I agreed to the blind date.

A couple of days later, June 26, 2009 to be precise, I was in the car fuming as I drove to San Mateo.  ”Me, driving to meet a guy for the first date?!  Ridiculous.  He should be picking me up!  He should send a limo!  He should send a flower-filled limo!”  But, Michael was working 10-hour days and finishing up his MBA while I had all the free time in the world since I hadn’t started my job yet.  Tell that to my 22-year-old bratty self and see how far you get.

I arrived, we chatted a bit, and he told me that he used to be a Ranger.  I asked, “Oh, like a forest ranger?”

Wrong.  Very, very wrong.  I’ve learned since then that Army Rangers are an elite bunch of military dudes doing what seems like “high-speed” (in Michael’s words) stuff.

Michael whisked me off to dinner at Kingfish where he ordered fish because he knew that I didn’t eat meat.  Although I have no problems with others eating meat, it was a sweet gesture.  Casual tango lessons followed at a local studio with lots of other first-time dancers.  Tip:  taking a woman to dance lessons allows for non-threatening, and oftentimes humorous, physical contact.  That’s Michael’s rationale at least.  After tango, we played 10 games of Mario Cart back at Michael’s apartment.  He didn’t let me win once.

I called one of my best friends, Allison, on my drive home and told her it was the best date I’ve ever been on.

One month later, I told my mother that I was going to marry this guy.  (I don’t think she believed me, but look where I am now!)  In December 2009, Michael and I went to Costa Rica for a month and moved in together in our downtown San Francisco apartment after we got back.  A little less than two years later, we got engaged.  And that was a one year ago today.

That is the story of how we met.

xoxo,

Jenn