Saturday night my parents were kind enough to meet up with us in Huntington Beach for dinner at BJ's and some good quality family time - I've been getting to play with my mom a lot lately (due to my lack of a job situation), and David wanted in on the fun - can you blame him? I pretty much have the best family - who wouldn't want to hang out with them?
Anywho, being at BJ's, we definitely had to get a PAZOOKIE for dessert and that put me on a walk down memory lane all the way back to the summer of 2010 when I met David for the first time, while noshing on a pazookie at a party for a girl neither of us knew...
It was July 20th, 2010 & I had just gotten back to Provo after spending the spring and half the summer gallivanting around Europe. I had bunked with a girlfriend for the remainder of the summer months, and while she was finishing up her summer term classes, I, well, partied. It was fabulous. It was from one of those such summertime escapades that I returned to our apartment complex to find out that our neighbor was having a birthday party down by the pool. Now, it must be told that I had never actually met my neighbor up to this point and really I just decided to go for the food and maybe to meet a few new people - turns out I got lucky on both counts.
They were serving pazookies, and not in the clean, hygenic sort of an individual piece for everybody way, but more in a here's a huge cookies sheet full of the stuff - have at it. I was fortunate to grab a bite before the crowd of double dippers descended on it, but honestly, it was pretty gross to share that whole pie with 30 other people and their dirty spoons. I didn't go back for seconds.
After turning my back on the sugar fest I chatted up a girlfriend until a boy walked up and joined our conversation. I remember him being cute and tall and rather slim - she introduced him to me as her friend David (you see where this is going?). She ducked out soon after that and left us to talk. We exchanged pleasantries and where are you from's and found out that we both had ties to Mission Viejo, California. I told him that I, you know, lived there & he told me he was born there. I got so far as to tell him that he was born in a nice hospital before I was pulled away (to go on a pseudo-date with one of his friends no less). We didn't even talk for more than 2 minutes - we didn't even get to the what are you majoring in questions - that's how short this conversation was.
After I was pulled off on my "date," David sat down with a girl friend who probed him about who he had met at the party (the party of this girl he had never met either by the way - yes we're a pair of party crashing, pazookie eaters). He told her he had met a girl named Carly, but didn't catch her last name, phone number, or where she lived. As luck would have it, this girl he was talking to was also friend of mine (since I was 5 years old crazy enough) - coincidence? Perhaps... Anyway she gave him my last name, and honestly the rest is history. I don't even remember (or I'm not sure I ever knew) the name of the girl who's birthday party we were at, but thanks neighbor. It is because of you and your alluring pazookie party that I met my husband. Hats off to you, wherever you are.