Thursday, February 24, 2011

Our Story of stories

How I met Anthony is a moment that I'll never forget. As it must be with you!

Ours was a blaringly sunny day at the romantic setting of the Salton Sea.

Let me back track a bit to put you in my shoes. A friend and I had ridden our motorcycles up to Yosemite for camping for 5 days. It was the beginning of April and pretty warm in the San Diego area, but fairly chilly at night. What the heck, it's spring break and we may as well give it a go!

By the time we get out of L.A. we both had on as much clothing as humanly possible to fit beneath our gear. Did this deter us? Heck no!! We ride for hours. Taking food and gas breaks, a few random stretch breaks, but we'd burned a day in L.A. already, so we only had a few days to camp and then ride back before school and work.

Get up there at around 11P.M. to find, oh look! Snow!! The gates are closed, however and we're not about to dive back down the mountain to find camp grounds. So we push our bikes down this dirt trail and leave them at the top of this slope, where we bed down on the ice with 1 tarp and our sleeping bags that were not meant for anything under oh, 60*F? Not funny.

Let's say after falling into the lake, having soaking wet shoes, nearly being blown by horrendous winds into the center divider, making the trip back to a friend's house at 2AM. for a photoshoot that she wanted to drag me on to model with her at 5:30AM, doing laundry while showering and catching maybe 2 hours of sleep?

I was looking my best for this photoshoot... the day before my birthday.

Now, Salton Sea. This smelly, dead sea filled with trash, bird poop and a rotting building we shot in. The theme? Sort of psycho killers/Mad Max-esque.

I was looking the absolute best I ever had:

Anthony walked up out of a the building and all I saw was tall, handsome goodness... who thinks he's way too cute. He had on these huge orange-ish sunglasses, his camera strapped to his back, his jeans were tattered and he is breezes by without so much as a glance, or a hello.

And then two motorcycles are pushed into my view.

Alright, I can admit, I asked about him, talked my friend's ear off about how cute he was (just as she was to me about another guy there), and sort of stalked him around the area. Seeing if he'd take my picture. He did at one point, but it felt like he was playing the tough, quiet guy. Hard to get. And I was down for the challenge!

Lunch break and he disappeared for an hour or two. Minor bummer, but with 10 models and 7-8 photographers, it was bound to happen. After exclaiming that something was "Epic", I went gracefully out of the trailer with one step to get another boca burger and fell straight to the ground. The boots of my heels hooked the stair and down I went like a bag of lead onto my knees. And who should be walking up to witness this? Anthony. Holding another model in his arms.

Game over! I thought. He's one of those tall, handsome guys who only likes short women! Just my luck. Getting up, I slinked away and prayed he didn't see me/wouldn't remember my pathetic attempts to woo him.

His good friend was also shooting that day. He mentioned to MY good friend that he was interested, just shy and having a bad day. My friend mentioned that I was interested and that we should all grab dinner that night.

Excitedly, he and I began talking after the troops reported back to base. He jumped in the car with us to head for food, but had to stay behind to shut down the trailer and clean up.

Needless to say he missed dinner. It's surely over now. I barely even knew his name. I'll never hear back or get his number now!

But, Ta-Da!! My awesome and amazing friend spoke to another photographer and made sure to pass along my number to him. If he was indeed interested.

The next day, I get a phone call.

And that's that. Romance, packed with action, knives, guns, drug lords, photography, good friends, and a one of a kind love.

This is our story. Tell us yours!

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