Happy Cinco de Mayo

From here on out referred to as, The Day I Said, "Are You For Real? Yes!"

As I have a way of doing with most holidays, I feel I have a claim on this lovely 5th day of May. It was purely coincident, but Cinco de Mayo happens to be the day the most wonderful man in the world asked me to be his wife.

Here's what happened: We met at summer camp a year before high school graduation. We became instant friends. We vowed to visit New York City together one day, since it was an iconic city to both of us due to one of the greatest movies of all time, The Newsies. After camp, we both went to our respective homes--his in Orange County and mine in Connecticut. Cell phones weren't as widely used by high school kids in those days and I don't even know if text messaging existed, so we had a hard time keeping in touch. I always tried to call, but it was hard being the strange girl from Connecticut who kept calling and always heard, "He's not here right now." But, we did meet up in New York City that winter, like we had vowed, and it was magical. We were inseparable. It felt like the best thing in the world just to traipse around the freezing cold city with him holding his hand for the entire day. All too soon, the day was over and my sister and I left him standing there on the platform at Grand Central Station as we boarded the train that would take us home to Connecticut. This is a long story, so to shorten it, I'll just tell you that after high school graduation I knew I had to be near that boy, so I packed up my car and headed to sunny southern California. I think we started looking for my wedding dress the first week I arrived. We weren't trying to rush, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. We found it in one of the first magazines we looked through and my handsome side kick ripped it straight out the book and tucked it in his pocket--it was the one.

Well, I'm a hopeless surprise ruin-er. I always guess my surprises and any time he ever tried to do anything nice for me or out of the ordinary, I would think, "Is he going to propose and make this official?" So, he had a pretty hard time of it. Which is why, on Cinco de Mayo, 2003, I was awoken by a really cute boy kneeling beside my bed, asking me in rapid fire, "How are you? Are you okay? Will you marry me?" to which I replied, "Are you for real?" because I wanted to make sure this wasn't some cruel joke just to trick me. And we both have lived happily ever after.

And that is why Cinco de Mayo is special to me. Its okay if it is special to you, too. Its selfish, I know, but I think I will still always have to feel I have some claim to the day. Cheers! and Ole!