When Pete and I had our first date, in June of 2001, he asked me when my curfew was. I was eighteen-going-on-nineteen and he was twenty-five, and this was not a good way to make a first impression. But then we got caught in a thunderstorm that flooded Mandalay Avenue at Clearwater Beach, and it turned out that we got along pretty well. We got along so well, in fact, that we dated for the next year and a half, until he moved to L.A. and I got ready to move to Seattle.
I'm lucky enough to have an exboyfriend that is also one of my best friends. And he's a great guy (and single, ladies!). He's a talented film maker and he makes really good coffee. He makes friends with everyone he comes across, and I'm still not sure that my family doesn't like him more than they like me. I'm pretty sure he'll be famous in a matter of moments.
Happy (almost late) birthday, Pete!
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