Once Upon a Wankershanks

So, it seems that Brian (aka Flavian, aka GuyIncognito) has a girlfriend. I'll just let that soak in for a while.

Brian + Girlfriend = whaaaaaa?

For those of you who don't know the Flavinator like I do, the probability of this occurring is somewhat greater than the odds of him saying "Binary is dead to me!", but slightly less than that of him growing a third eyeball.

But I suppose stranger things have happened. To celebrate this momentous occassion, I'd like to regale you all with the greatest love story of all time: How Mr. and Ms Wankershanks met.

It's a rather lame tale. I generally cringe when people ask about it. As a wee lass, I'd always dreamt that I'd meet my future husband doing something exciting, or at the very least, sordid. If it had involved, let's say, a spatula, The Jerry Springer Show and a minimum of 2 rabid monkeys, it would have been acceptable. Throw in a few murderously rampaging gerbils and we're talkin. But it didn't. It involved...

a church camp.

That's right, a church camp. Now I could tell you that it was some crazed, alien-fearing, cultist deathcamp that we had been sold into by our slave-trading parents. But it wasn't. It was a Presbyterian church camp. And if you know anything about Presbyterians, you'll know that they're basically respectably aged hippies: generally pretty mellow folk. The camp was outside of Asheville, NC at a scenic private college called Montreat. Neither Scott nor I were religious folk, but we went because it meant getting away from our respective parents for an entire week. We met one afternoon outside the dining hall. He had his CD case open, revealling an array of Tori Amos CD's. It was sooo *hawt.*

We spent the week skipping church services together, which sounds entirely more rebellious than it was. It turns out that the Presbyterian Camp Overloards didn't really mind if we skipped church. Mostly, we just wandered around the hills and valleys talking about how much we liked math, and how Mad Magazine was really sucking ever since Sergio Aragones ditched. Occassionally, we had the "religion is like, soooo oppressive" discussion because we apparently had no concept of irony.

The week ended and we went back to our respective states- him in Alabama, and me in Florida. We kept in touch over the years, visited each other a lot, and eventually he moved down here. And that's the tale. You can see why I'm disappointed.

I had bigger dreams for Flavian's "how-we-met" tale. But he met his girlfriend through a coworker who made the astonishing connection that they both love the show Arrested Development. According to the Nielson Ratings, they're about the only ones, so I suspect she's just staying with him long enough to procreate... a lot... so she can get another few seasons of the Bluth Family Antics. Love is in the air.