Having grown-up on the East Coast, and more specifically the Northshore of Massachusetts, I really felt “Is there even a need to live anywhere else?” I loved living in Massachusetts and was one of those gals that felt the entire western part of the state (ie..too long to drive to the beach for a day visit) was really a waste. I mean have you been to Worcester? (pronounced Woos-ta…please people, get this right) I rest my case. Yes, my US map was basically Boston out to the 495 loop and then…California.

Then I met the General while he was living in Boston for graduate school. You see I lived in Cambridge and we NEVER dated the local Ivy League boys – never. They weren’t any fun and had no idea what it was like to get-up and go to a job by 7am, so my roommate and I crossed them off the menu. But then I met the General. He wouldn’t take NO for an answer, and he was FUN, and wasn’t a snob and he was so interesting (Chicks try to remember WHY you married your guy – it helps because marriage is a long contract and you need to remember the guy who wooed you and not the guy you would like to put out of his misery every night with your pillow due to his snoring).

I figured out pretty quick the General was just a smart, hard working boy from a blue-collar family in the Midwest. He put himself through school by getting into West Point and paying his time back in the Army (Now you understand why he is The General). This poor guy was going to school with lots of blue bloods and I am sure the rest of his Ivy League classmates looked down their nose at my lack of pedigree, but I think that is part of the reason The General liked me.

So here is the thing. Not long after we started dating The General had a “test date weekend”. Now I am sure none of you other ladies had a test weekend and maybe it’s something he learned in the Army about weeding out the weak recruits, but it goes something like this…
Friday Night – Black Tie event with the Grad School cronies at the Boston Symphony.
Saturday Morning – EARLY – Drive to NH and play paint ball in the woods with more Grad School cronies.
Saturday Night – Back to Boston out to dinner with The General’s best friend (not just a good friend, this guy is his best friend – West Point classmate, Roommate in Army and Roommate in Grad School knows where the skeletons are buried best friend- The General wants me to name him the Lieutenant, but I call him Fire Starter)

I am sure you know how it all turned out. I passed the test, I would like to say with flying colors, and here I am fifteen years and three kids later. We didn’t mess around. Started dating in the fall and engaged before graduation. I hadn’t even met his family when we got engaged (I DO NOT recommend this by the way..another story, another day) When the General decides he wants something, he tends to make it happen. So now, because of the General, I know what is on the US map between 495 and California but I have also realized I am happiest being a Coastal Chick.

Just Kidding...but it does look like a cooool version of The General

The Chick and The General
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