I signed my divorce papers on December 20th, 2007, (then 2 days later flew to Paris, and spent Christmas day flooding a laundromat in the 10th Arrondissement, but that’s a story for another time), and it was nearly 3 years later when I stumbled upon love again. Yes folks, two years ago today (June 7, 2010) I met The Cheerleader I Live With

I took my girls to the park up the street from my condo that June Monday two years ago, to let them run around off-leash and to help me find some relaxation after the storm that was the Kili Gala fundraiser that The Cheerleader I Climb Mountains With and I had thrown just 2 nights prior. It went ok, but could have been better, and I just wanted to forget about it for a while and enjoy the sunshine. So, I was happily tossing a stick for the dogs when a city van pulled up and stopped at the entrance to the park. Now, the park is right beside a condo complex where there is a rather notorious donkey-nard-sucking snit who really, really dislikes dogs. And people. And probably cupcakes, rainbows, laughter, and kittens, too. So, I just *knew* that the snit had called the city to report me for having my dogs off-leash. I turned to run out of the park, but as I threw one more glance behind me at the city van, I saw a guy with a mohawk step out of it. I decided to stick around.

I’m a sucker for all things badass – mohawks, tattoos, piercings, eyeliner, black nailpolish… you know, the usual. So I’d risk a ticket to meet a guy with a mohawk any day! So… Mohawk Guy saunters over and we get to chit-chatting. He actually starts tossing the stick for the dogs and commenting on how much Luna looks like his old dog, Tasha. It was a genial, easy conversation about nothing in particular, and after about 20 minutes Mohawk Man and I parted ways with a handshake instead of a ticket.

Five days later, Mohawk Man became The Cheerleader I Live With.

That’s right, five days later. We met that Monday, had our first date on Thursday (where we made spaghetti sauce, talked about music, compared tattoos, and got really, really drunk), and moved in together on Saturday. Done and done! Hey, when you know, you know, right? And two years, a trip to Guatemala, and an engagement ring later, I’m pretty confident in our abilities to judge character.

I blame the mohawk. I always have, and I always will. Had he been some long-hair, or a dork with a bowl cut I totally would have run out of that park to avoid him. As it was, The Cheerleader I Live With‘s spiky hairdo made me stick around… for the rest of my life. (Funny thing – the only reason he had the mohawk was because he had lost a bet with his ex-girlfriend over the weekend and had to shave his head. Gotta’ love the irony there, eh?)

Anyway, it’s a weird love story. It’s our weird love story. And we like it.

Here’s to love, and hope, timing and good hair…

Happy Thursday, everyone!

xo

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