Scotty deserves an entire six volume mini series instead of just a blog entry. How do I even begin to describe what he means to me? Fourteen years ago, he met me at my layover hotel in Philly where he was living, and took me to a place called The Plough and Stars where I introduced him to Irish coffee. It was a cold December day, we found a spot by the fire as we ordered round after round of Scotty's new favorite beverage and became fast friends while listening to the fiddler play.
Since that night, we have moved across the country several times over, had scores of relationships, half a dozen pets, a million and one cocktails, shared hundreds of hotel rooms, lived together for three months, laughed and cried over too many phone calls to count, and have grown closer and closer as the years pass. He is now my "air huzzy", and we have fun planning grand adventures together in Columbia, Iceland, and St. Maarten...although we have yet to jet set off into the blue with each other. He is the best husband a girl could ask for, and when I find my other husband, I will officially be the luckiest girl on the planet.