A La Duo
A life led less silly might never have arrived in the seriously wonderful state it is now. I was twelve years old when a board game played with friends gave me the answer to the most important question every girl faces: When will I meet the love of my life?
There were three of us playing the game which involved moving squares after throwing dice and finding out delicious details about our present, past and future love lives. It was my first and last time playing the game - not long after I moved to Queensland with my family and never saw it again. It got to my turn and I pulled out a card that told me how I would meet the love of my life. With a skeptical eye I read aloud, "He will be wearing a pale blue suit and you will meet him at a cousin's wedding."
Hmmph. It felt a little disheartening that a. my future husband would have no fashion sense and b. that being a cousin's wedding any male guests were likely to be attached and attached to someone of blood relation to me. Blue suits were not in vogue at the time I was reading the card and I concluded that if I did meet someone under that particular set of circumstances it would be enormously coincidental to the point of being spooky.
Thirteen years on and I was cruising the online profiles of many, many, bachelors who had sent me a message that day. Many, many wannabe Mr Rights were oh so wrong I often logged on for sheer entertainment. Hell, sometimes I invited a mate around to share the laughs with a bottle of sparkling. My favourite rib ticklers were the
I was by myself when I opened this particular profile though. Flicking through the photos I stopped at one and stared. It was an arty kind of shot with a handsome guy standing in one of those bath tubs in paddocks you see out west. He was wearing a pale blue suit and the caption of the photo read: "At a cousin's wedding."
Even after all these years that game I played for kicks and giggles had stuck in my memory like a bookmark in a page. I laughed out loud and arranged to meet him - he thought the story was hilarious and I thought nothing more of it until we fell in love and got married.
So there you go. Spooky stuff.
There were three of us playing the game which involved moving squares after throwing dice and finding out delicious details about our present, past and future love lives. It was my first and last time playing the game - not long after I moved to Queensland with my family and never saw it again. It got to my turn and I pulled out a card that told me how I would meet the love of my life. With a skeptical eye I read aloud, "He will be wearing a pale blue suit and you will meet him at a cousin's wedding."
Hmmph. It felt a little disheartening that a. my future husband would have no fashion sense and b. that being a cousin's wedding any male guests were likely to be attached and attached to someone of blood relation to me. Blue suits were not in vogue at the time I was reading the card and I concluded that if I did meet someone under that particular set of circumstances it would be enormously coincidental to the point of being spooky.
Thirteen years on and I was cruising the online profiles of many, many, bachelors who had sent me a message that day. Many, many wannabe Mr Rights were oh so wrong I often logged on for sheer entertainment. Hell, sometimes I invited a mate around to share the laughs with a bottle of sparkling. My favourite rib ticklers were the
I was by myself when I opened this particular profile though. Flicking through the photos I stopped at one and stared. It was an arty kind of shot with a handsome guy standing in one of those bath tubs in paddocks you see out west. He was wearing a pale blue suit and the caption of the photo read: "At a cousin's wedding."
Even after all these years that game I played for kicks and giggles had stuck in my memory like a bookmark in a page. I laughed out loud and arranged to meet him - he thought the story was hilarious and I thought nothing more of it until we fell in love and got married.
So there you go. Spooky stuff.
