The Story of Us: My Former Life

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Well, date night was a smash hit. Nothing screams “romance” like sipping on a Cherry Coke Zero while watching Tom Cruise blow up the Krenlin. Some girls dig flowers and chocolate. I’m generally satisfied with saccharine and explosives.

I picked up the February 2012 issue of Glamour magazine over my morning coffee today. I can assure you, I skipped over the dish about Katy Perry’s marriage woes and What Your Doctor Won’t Say to Your Face to read an article by actress and comedian, Ali Wentworth. Here, Wentworth provides hilarious details about her premarital dating habits which led to her finding the love of her life, White House advisor, George Stephanopoulos. Even before the caffeine had worked its charm, I was growing more sentimental by the minute as I began to reminisce over how I met my sweetheart. Once I reached the bottom of my coffee mug, it occurred to me that I have never shared this story with you, my lovely readers. Now, I can’t guarantee that our love story would ever merit sharing the same binding with the reasons why Kim Kardashian eats her ice cream cones at noon and not late at night. However, I can promise you that your fingers won’t smell of potent perfume sample inserts by the time you are finished reading, nor will you be tempted to clutter your mind with thoughts of the Dad ‘stache {circa 1972} threatening to come back in style. {I have already wasted .2% of my waking hours today picturing Clark with a Burt Reynold’s ‘stache, and my only regret is that I will never get those 26 seconds of my life back. EVER!}

I believe I will enjoy re-opening this particular window into my former life. It was only seven years ago that I met Clark Beasley, but you’d be hard-pressed to find me nowadays dancing on a stage with Family Force Five in a pair of kitty-trampling high heels. {It happened only once, and I can assure you there was no alcohol involved}. But, I’m a mom now, and well, moms don’t exactly “Shake it like an earthquake” in public. But I was young {-er} and I ran with bands and I danced on stage speakers {fully clothed} with musicians that spent more time and money on hair products than our current monthly diaper budget. Ah…. those were the days.

And that is where our story begins….

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