I once heard the great Stanford historian James Sheehan say that a good chapter in history never begins at the beginning, or else how would you know the background anyway? I guess the same hold true for stories like this one and I'll try to make this a short preamble to Wedding Schlep, henceforth shortened to WS.
What can I tell you about myself? I'm almost 30, I'm south american and I'm what most cultures would call a geek. Not your typical geek, no Sir! I can barely make my way through the elegant mechanics of this blog, but damn right I can meander my way through a library or bookstore pretty well. Needless to say I like languages since now you're reading me musing with a language that's not my first. I'm a foodie (have done some cooking classes in the past) and also sort of a connoisseur of classical music.
Though I'm not a citizen I'm no stranger to the gringo-land I intend to move to in the near future with dear M. I have lived in Boston and San Francisco in the past two years.
I shall at last begin by saying I found myself in a very dreary winter night very far away from gringo-land nosing around on c-list. After the usual amount of bullshit I found myself startled by this very well-crafted, captivating post of this sensitive girl who in a very assertive manner was looking for a dude with significant-other intents. I had found M.: funny, smart as a girl can be (she's an ivy-league girl with an MFA) and very cute in her own unique way. I do not intent this paragraph to be an attempt of genocide to those ailed by diabetes mellitus - but yes! Love describes what came to exist between us after talking for a couple of months.
And so M. decides to take a huge chance and steal away from gringo-land to see me. After seven days of exceptionally good food, fun with friends, being lost in translation many times, a dazzling experience with south american drinks and a helluva new year's eve party, we decided that we would have our very own shot at the institution of marriage.
Alas, here commences the Wedding Schlep.
Yours Truly,
The Bloke
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Aw shucks, sweetie. I hope any comments I make live up to your description of me. I do want to add that I knew you were The One when I saw your copy of Toussaint-Samat's A History of Food.
ReplyDeleteDoes your saying here that we met on cl mean that you're going to fess up to everyone about me not really having a cousin in Westfield and that we didn't meet at Passover dinner?
And shouldn't you say something about the proposal? You know, paint a scene for the reader of the dramatic high point? Can we even call it a proposal? And if so, who proposed to whom?