Getting What You Ask For

Or, "How Zirpu and I Met." This is the story of how the Universe answers prayers even when you don't believe.


It was the Saturday of the Summer Solstice in 2001. That day had been declared a "voluntary blackout day" and I unplugged everything in my house (except the gas stove, because that made me nervous). I mostly sat outside and read a book. It was a beautiful day.


Shmeen had advised that while it's important to have a list of requirements for a lover, the list should be short, no more than five items. Otherwise, she said, the list is too specific and no one could ever meet it. I had my list: Smart, silly, sex-positive, willing to deal with emotions, and... now I always forget the fifth one. Probably something basic like "mature" or "friendly to my family." So even though I thought it was superstitious to do so, I set up a request - what some of my friends would call an altar - on the dining table. I wrote my list on a piece of paper, and next to it put a collage I'd made a few years before of my relationship to the Universe; pictures of two people I had really loved; a photo of Dad and one of Phil (for intercessionary powers); some jewelry that has strong sentimental value; a flower; and some candles. My deal with the Universe was that I would help it help me find someone.


At the beginning of July I started looking at the personals on Craigslist. I was looking at Men Seeking Women because the Women Seeking Women posts seemed to either be flame wars or very young women. I had dared myself to meet ten men, which worked because I didn't really want to be doing this at all. Ten meant I had an escape clause.


Zirpu was Bachelor #8. I had actually met about four people in real life by the time I met him. His ad said "Boring Southern Gentleman, 33, in Berkeley" and I thought, "I"ll give this a try, he's close to me in age and geography" because the previous two guys I'd dated hadn't been, one in San Jose, the other 22 years my senior. We exchanged a few emails - he sent a picture I couldn't really see because I only had 16 colors on my old machine (not to mention a 28.8 modem) - and then two phone calls to set up a meet. I'd learned from previous experience that you have to set up the meet quickly, before everyone loses interest in emailing.


We met at the Beanery in Berkeley, close to where we both lived, on July 29. I was 20 minutes late because I couldn't recognize him and because I didn't know the coffeehouse had a back room, and I still want that twenty minutes back. He was playing with Legos which he'd purchased at the toy store next door, to give his hands something to do and hide his nervousness. We talked and played with the Legos for three hours, up until the last possible moment before I had to get back home to meet the book club that was coming over.


When we walked out, he was a little ahead of me and skipped a few steps. So did my heart. As miraculous as it was that we met, the real miracle is that had we met any earlier than we did, neither of us would have been ready for the lightning bolt.


One and a half year later YaYaWOT and Boy made our wedding cake top out of Legos in honor of our first date.