Bob and I met at Camprov, a comedy retreat at Camp Hawthorne in Maine, in the summer of 2007. My old improv comedy group hosts this weekend-long event every year. We do shows and take workshops with well-known improv teachers, and hang around bonfires every night. The first day of camp, I was making a friendship bracelet and he sat down next to me and started making one too. He chose white, black and yellow thread for his bracelet. It took me over a year to realize he was making a Georgia Tech-themed friendship bracelet. (For those of you who don’t know, Bob loves Georgia Tech almost as much as me). He is a quiet person when you first get to know him, but Bob almost talked my ear off while we sat there at the picnic table. It took him almost the entire weekend to finish his bracelet, and before he left on Sunday to go back to Boston, he gave it to me. Wow, he’s nice, I thought, really nice. And he is. He’s the cat’s pajamas, the bee’s knees [er, the Yellowjacket's knees --Bob], the nicest, kindest gentleman I have ever met. He even refuses to walk through a door before me (because he’s a good southern boy, y’all). And lucky me, last June at a fancy little Italian restaurant in Boston’s historic North End, he got down on his knee in a packed roomful of diners, and asked me to be his wife. Well, not so much asked as offered me my great grandmother’s ring and declared his undying love, amid candlelight and soft music and linguini. It was a perfect night.
That was the easy part, now we’re planning our wedding. Eeek!