18 September 2013

dilbar, shikdum shikdum

So, I'm married!

Everyone knows this. My loving husband is Aziz Ahmed, and he was born in Pakistan, raised in Brooklyn, New York, and then dragged out to Utah by none other than myself! He is incredible. Tall, dark, and oh so vair handsome. He is my favorite person in the whole world.

Everyone always asks us how we met, and I suppose they're not wrong to do so. He is a half Pakistani, Brooklyn boy, and I am a white bread Utah girl from an LDS family. Where could I possibly find a very large, brown man in central Utah that wasn't Tongan or going to BYU? The answer is very simple: Internet.

When I first met Aziz, I merely knew him as the level 85 Blood Elf Paladin who was one of the higher-ups in the Guild I was part of in World of Warcraft. If you're not familiar with World of Warcraft, you live under a rock and I'm not going to explain it to you. Back then, just before the summer of 2011, he was "Raariston", and I was "Hunted". I was attracted to him straightway because of how silly he tended to be when talking on the Guild chat. I remember him joking about how he was going to eat the last of his cake before the rapture came. (If you don't remember, one Harold Camping predicted the "rapture" to be on May 21st of 2011.) Later, I encountered him by chance in a virtual city and began directing my toon (aka world of warcraft character) to jump in circles around him to signify that I recognized him as a member of my guild. In return, his toon began dancing circles around mine. For some reason, he doesn't seem to remember much of anything that happened between us (which wasn't much) until one specific instance when I required help locating a dungeon. I was very low-leveled and therefore my toon had to walk at the slowest speed possible, and he had a flying mount that allowed him to travel at the fastest speed possible. Somehow, I still managed to locate the dungeon before he did, but I was grateful for his assistance either way. To express my undying gratitude, I told him, "fanks." To this day, he won't let me say it any other way.

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