15 Years

I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live - Five For Fighting

Great song. It has nothing to do with anything. Other than that I was 22 when I met Scot. And it makes me cry- in a good way.

Auld Lang Syne has always made me cry. It's bittersweet. I appreciate reflecting on the good from the past year, but the funeral dirge air to the song makes me think too much of what has been lost. I take much more delight in New Years Day. Let's not look back too much. Let's look forward. New Years Day is usually bright, crisp and shining in Arizona. The type of day that conjures up a fresh start with so many possibilities.

Scot and I met early on New Years Day, 1995. I had finished a waitress's shift around 11:30 on NYE, and sped to Houlihan's to meet up with my boyfriend and some friends. I was 22. GULP! Narrowly, I missed the clock striking midnight. I missed Auld Lang Syne. I walked into the dark bar which was covered in confetti and stinky, spilled beer. And then I saw him. I didn't know who he was but he was talking to some friends. Frantically I started asking around. "Who is that guy?" "Who knows him?" He was the younger brother of a friend. I asked to be introduced and we spent the next twenty minutes talking. He was a recent ASU graduate and was considering grad school. I was still in college. Eventually I mingled back around to my then- boyfriend. He was just something to fill the time until someone better came along. Someone had come along. I knew, that night, that I could marry Scot. I had no basis for knowing it. It was just something I felt in my bones. The night ended in my hot styling teal-blue 1991 Camaro. I was the designated driver who drove my friends (Scot included) home. Every time I glanced in the rear-view mirror I was acutely aware that gorgeous, smart Scot was sitting in my backseat.

I hadn't known it on New Year's Eve, but Scot was betrothed. His beloved was attending graduate school in Canada, which would then lead to her placement in medical school. Scot and her had been dating long-distance for a year when we met. I was dating Mr. Right Now, but over the next couple of months Scot and I saw each other quite often as we hung in the same social circle. Every so often his girlfriend would fly out for a (conjugal, vapid ) visit and we would all meet up for drinks. Scot and Sarah were to be married in 1997, and to have their first baby the following year. I heard this directly from his girlfriend's mouth. She had it all mapped out according to breaks in her schooling.

To make a long story somewhat shorter, I corrupted Scot in October of 1995. A large group of us went to see Jimmy Buffet. I took the trolley there with Mr. Right Now, and left for home sitting on Scot's lap. I was done waiting for what I felt was my destiny. The next morning both of us broke up with our respective partners. Scot called Sarah. I arranged a lunch with Mr. Average. I sat in his car and told him it was time for both of us to move on. He grew mad and started hurling insults. But I sensed that none of the anger was over losing me. He was just losing face.

Mr. Right Now's parting shot has gone down in history. As I got out of his car he shouted, "Ya know, Toni, you're going to marry that guy!" Talk about putting the cart before the horse- what a bizarre thing to say! And I never forgot it. I kind of knew how I felt, but how did he know?

Scot and I were married on June 6, 1998.

Today, the sky is a magnificent cerulean blue and people with fitness resolutions are packing the greenbelt. The world is anew again. Happy New Year to my dear husband, my friends, and my family. May this year be filled with many joyful gifts, new opportunities, and delightful diversions.

And if you feel it, don't waste time. Go for it.