Well, I suppose this adventure started when I met my wife in San Francisco. It seemed like a fairly straightforward beginning to a relationship. Thanks to Craigslist, and her willingness to respond to an admittedly one-sided and needy post, I met her at Starbucks for a cup of coffee back in July, 2005. The first few hours went by like a bullet train in the night. I was brutally honest, figuring that I have nothing to lose, really. My last few dates were pathetic – so what was one more? She was inquisitive to the core. Apropos, considering she’s a shrink (which I discovered after about an hour of blabbing). We closed down that fine coffee-swilling establishment that night (first time in a long time), and I asked her if she’d be keen to grab dinner.

*** I knew she was a keeper when she said yes, strapped on the extra helmet I cleverly brought with (just in case), and we rode into the Mission for some nuveau Chinese cuisine.***

I brought her home on the trusted 2-wheeled steed, and smoothly deposited a shy, sweet kiss on her right cheek, “goodnight.” I got bugs in my teeth on the ride home over the bridge. A simple kiss after a wonderful evening with a beautiful woman, and I was lofted into the heavens like a 12 year old boy seeing “that girl in the hall” while running between Spanish and Social Studies. There were butterflies. Plenty of them. But somehow I knew this was real.

The teaser, for me, was that I was off to Costa Rica the following week – for a TWO WHOLE WEEKS – and we didn’t’ have time to catch up again before departure. Just as well — you shouldn’t seem tooooo interested, right? Nevertheless, from the moment I left her in front of her apartment near USF, and throughout my entire (epic) trip to Guanacaste (Costa Rica), I could NOT get her out of my mind. I even told my buddies that she could be “the one.”

So, what about the “adventure” part?
Well, the kicker is that she is not an American. Wouldn’t you know it! I could sense something in her way, and my semi-unsophisticated (not really – but I think I was drunk with adoration) ear could only tease out the subtlest of inconsistencies in her speech. Sure, I figured she was not quite a native Californian, but regarding the possibility of her being raised outside the States for over 20 years – nope, I (you) wouldn’t have guessed it in 100 years. I’m a native Californian myself, and I swear, she sounded (and still sounds) like someone who grew up around the Bay Area, or at most, in one of the States west of The Rockies. She looks pretty much like a California Girl, as well. I was quite surprised to find out that she was (is), in fact, 100% Ukranian. I kinda wondered the same thing my Grandma wonders to this day – why did you have to go and fall in love with a Ukrainian.

–> And so, on with the rest of my wonderful adventure…