9 years ago today, I was living on Balboa Island with two of my childhood friends, Queeny and Christa.
Tommy had just graduated from UCSB and was living in Santa Barbara.
Queeny (who prefers to be called Colleen, but I’ve been friends with since I was twelve- so I can call her whatever I’d like) was dating (her now husband) Bradley (who I’ve also been friends with for forever, and who I adore, but don’t have any G-rated-blog-friendly names for).
(Brad, Tommy, Me, and Queeny)
Bradley mentioned that he had a roommate in college that I would get along really well with. Well, Bradley has interests, but medling in my love life was not characteristically one of them.
When I questioned his comments, he assured me, “I’m not going to do anything about it, (with a laugh) I just think that you two would get along.”
Queeny quickly assured me, "you will NOT like him. I've met him.”
Brad retorted,"I don't know what you're talking about. Chicks dig Tommy."
So, I just kind of forgot about the whole thing. A few weeks/months later, we decided to have a 70’s party. My roommates and I called some of our guy friends from high school who lived in Santa Barbara to invite them and told them to bring their roommates or anyone they’d like. At this moment, I honestly had forgotten about my previous odd conversation with Bradley.
Up in Santa Barbara, Tommy
(this is a picture I took shortly after we met. Don't fret love, you haven't changed a bit...and neither have I...:)
was asked by his roommate Eric
(one of the best fellows I know, who my roommates and I went to high school with, and I seriously dated for 47.5 hours in 6th grade, until he tried to kiss me, thus causing our whole dating relationship to be called off) if he wanted to go to a party down south. Tommy said he wanted to go…but later, Tommy came home from work and felt tired, so he told Eric that he no longer felt like it. Eric told Tommy that since he waited for him to get off work he now had to go, because if Tommy didn’t go, he’d have to drive alone (for story accuracy, I google mapped the drive, 2 hours 24 minutes and up to 3 hours 50 minutes in traffic, so Eric had a valid point)*. They drove down.
When I saw my old friends, I met them at their car, adorned in my 70's attire. Tommy stepped out of the car, reached his hand out to shake and said “Hi! My name’s Tommy.” I replied, “My name’s Danielle.”
Then he said, “Where should I put this beer?”
I showed him the fridge and we talked the rest of the night. He “got” me and embraced my strange sense of humor. 6 months later he asked me to marry him, 8 months after that we were married!
Since then, we’ve done so much together and had the best time. I can’t wait to see what the next 9 years has in store for us.
*This part of the story was included to highlight how close Tommy was to not coming.
Happy Meetaversary Tommy! I love you!
Here's some love, in case you're in need of a Jude fix: