Thank you for saying "yes", Pam

As I sit in my apartment in Oklahoma typing and internet surfing (or surfing the net, as the kids say), Jordan is sprawled out on the couch sleeping. He looks so cute, like a baby in a man's body....only not strange and creepy.

Looking at my sleeping beauty has made me think back to the spring of 2006. I remember there was a YSA dance that I wanted to go to, but I had a date that night with a guy. I remember thinking, Oh well, the dance would have been lame anyway. Well, that date was sort of lame. I forget what we did. Probably ate dinner and awkwardly talked about what I "like to do for fun" and what music I like to listen to (my two most loathed questions in the world). Anywho, the date ended at about 10:30. I called my friend Pam to tell her about it and just to talk. I mentioned to her that there was a YSA dance tonight that we missed that ended at 12:00 (or something. I don't remember the exact times so don't call the fact police. I just remember it was gonna end in like an hour, oook). I talked about how I would have rather have gone to the dance that night instead of my date. Pam said she had her pajamas on already. I figured at that point she would not be interested in getting all dolled up and going to a dance for the last 45 minutes of it but I asked anyway. It was more one of those "y'wanna" questions rather than a plea. Instead of saying she was too tired or feeling frumpy, she just said "Yeah!" and headed straight to my house. She was wearing sweats but she still looked cute. I was wearing my Napoleon Dynamite shirt that I thought was really cool at the time but now I look and think really?! Anyway....

When we got to the dance, we. had. a. BLAST! There were tons of people back from school and a bunch of sales guys there for the summer. On the last slow song, a charming stranger asked me to dance who introduced himself and said he was a salesman from OKLAHOMA. I immediately started cracking lame jokes that I thought were clever about him having to drive a cow there or something. For the record, he was making them as well. I remember thinking Oklahoma seemed as though he was talking about another country. I knew it was somewhere in the middle, but that was it. When he mentioned he was from Tulsa, I explained I had never heard of that city in my life and sarcastically mentioned that it sounded happenin'. (Oh, Karma, you cruel devil). Despite my stupid jokes I must have been somewhat charming because at the end of the dance he asked for my number and we started dating.

A few months later he introduced me to his best friend/roommate Jordan.

And then two years later I fell in love with said best friend/roommate.

And then two years later I sat in my apartment in Tulsa and typed about how I met my first Okie four years ago while my man-baby slept on our couch that we bought together as husband and wife.

So Pam, thank you for saying you would go to the dance with me. Little did either of us know it would cause a chain of events that would lead to me living in that mysterious land of Oklahoma (which is just north of Texas, by the way. I figured that out!) and married to my sweetheart.