Rebecca's (Bold and Italics are additions from Greg):

March of 2020 was when we first met. While I was ready to have someone consistent, I can't say I was looking for a Greg. We first matched on facebook dating. I had just been out with another guy, so I wasn’t really invested in meeting up with him. As a matter of fact, I specifically didn’t want to go on a first date with anyone after working a full day at Petsmart. Greg wanted me to come hang out at Dragonmouth. I was not in the mood to get murdered by the strange, possibly gay(she prefers murder at the hands of straights only, thankyouverymuch), man who looked to be entirely different from who I would usually go out with. We settled on Panera, March 15th.

During our first meal at panera, I could not figure out what to think of him. He definitely had some odd habits. For example, I said excuse me for something and he responded with full pardon, while making the sign of the cross with his hand similar to how a priest blesses an object. I distinctly remember thinking this is going to be very annoying. After we finished eating Greg suggested running to a Walgreens that had nearly expired kombucha for $0.25 a bottle. I did not know how to politely get out of it, so I ended up driving us there… Then to the dark alley to see his painting…. Then to see his unofficial art installation(in front of the abandoned YMCA)… Then to Dragonmouth.

I remember telling a coworker about the date the next morning. She looked at me, looked at his pictures, and told me I could do better. My response, “He kept stopping mid sentence to say, ‘You're really pretty’ over and over again.” I learned later that week that my dating profile undersold how pretty I was, which probably equalizes out how bad his texting game was that first week. I think I got a response from him 3x saying ‘I really like Sales.’

Our next date was supposed to be going to see a movie in the theater on March 17th.(Greg is still salty to this day that I would not meet up with him to get icecream on Monday) I got a text from him that morning informing me that everything was shut down, but that he had this massage chair I could come over and use. I was thinking it would be one like my mom had always had. One that sits on the couch and runs up and down your spine in little circles. I was pretty surprised to see a full arm, leg and body chair. Greg really set it up nicely too. He adjusted the shoulder height, put a heavy blanket on me, made sure the pillow was in the right spot and set the speakers up to play instrumental music. I was still not sure what to make of Greg at this point, but thought I could keep seeing him for a few more weeks to keep using the chair.

Life felt like it sped by that summer. Greg was really excited to hear that my lease was going to be up right around the same time he was(possibly) going to be moving to Kansas City. He was so excited; I was panicked. He handled this by getting some CBD oil for me to help calm my anxiety. He also gave me a yellow legal pad to make a PRO/CON list. He said we should take a stressful trip out to the mountains to put our new relationship (4 weeks at this point) to the test. We learned a ton about each other that trip. I was also introduced to the ZuZuvuela on that trip as well. The rest of the summer sped by with many a bonfire, swimming at McCook, meeting family and friends, and many Greg adventures like the free meat fiasco.

That fall, I learned how fast Greg will put a plan into action after making the decision. He was promoted at work to store manager, which included a move to Manhattan, KS.(covid ended up stalling the kc store opening that we would have otherwise moved for) I got 10 days notice before the moving truck arrived. This was a bit easier than the move from the little apple to Kansas City though, where we had 5 days. Manhattan was really where I fell in love. Covid rules were very much in effect. Our life there settled into a lovely routine of work, dinner, and watching tv. On hard/long days, we would walk or scooter to Coldstone for Icecream. Since we didn't know anyone, we spent our time learning about each other. I feel most of our inside jokes and mannerisms were born during this time. We lived there about 8 months before I was denied a promotion at work on a Wednesday.Greg was chatting with his boss on Thursday; who offered to transfer us to the Independence location for more opportunities. We packed the moving truck up and left.

Since the move to Kansas City, Greg’s free Girlfriend trial period expired. Luckily he decided to buy the upgrade. We got engaged in October 2022. We had always considered eloping. I think the birth of my niece Brooke inspired Greg to really move forward with his plans. We started looking for a house in January 2023. Greg will tell you that we HAD to get married because our realtor put my last name down as Danner on the paperwork. I think he was excited. We got married in February, with Greg’s sister Julie as officiant, and both our parents and Greg’s Grandmother in attendance. The day was perfect. I think we both enjoyed leaving little Easter eggs for people in facebook and instagram posts until the announcement came out in March. Life was pretty crazy for a while. We moved into the house, Greg switched careers from shoes to Gutters. We traveled a bit to see family. Greg bought a new car. I spent a small fortune fixing my car. I kept asking for a dog, Greg said no. I asked again. Greg said no. I said I was going to be really upset if we missed out on a pair of dogs because he didn’t take time to meet them. He said fine, but they were going to be my responsibility( I think they both prefer him now, lol. I think he pays them in cheese.) Now Greg insists on having them be in the wedding ratification ceremony. I am so excited to have all the people who Greg and I love come to celebrate how much he has changed my entire life.

Greg's:

I love Rebecca and am incredibly lucky to have found a partner who can bring out the best in me, whose differences compliment mine. They say the perfect pairing is one person who doesn't like pickles and a partner who does. This is us. She has no issues ordering her burgers as they come and opening up the bun at the table and then gifting the pickles onto my plate or wrapper or my open palms, whatever the situation dictates.

She also doesn't like rootbeer and she offers no explanation why- it is an unfathomable position to hold and I usually only secretly judge her for it but make an exception now in this writing for this special occaision- our wedding ratification ceremony.

The event seems unusual but it is just another hallmark of compromise in the great latice of our shared life together. She wanted to sneak off romantically to elope, and I wanted to make her happy and get her health insurance... I never once imagined that I would be sobbing as I was, as I waited on the beach as she was walked down the sand by her dad, replete with a white bow in her hair which flabbergasted me at just how precious she is to me.

We ate that day at a seafood restaurant- she hates seafood and now no longer will even eat Ceasar salads after I, in my own devilish glee, told her that it had anchovies in it. True to her form, a being of will, clay not in my hands- she resolved then and there that she doesn't care for ceasar salad even if she tolerated then previously.

At our wedding anniversary lunch we ate again at a seafood restaurant where a former employee of mine from my time at tradehome workes- an extravagent buffet that, like the restaurant, still had plenty of options for her, and complimentary bubbly for us for our anniversary.

So we were indeed ceremonially and legally married but we still wanted a gathering, fairy tale dreams and a terrific party married into one jelly donut.

My dad always remarked about the 4th of July not being the date the declaration of Independence was signed but rather when it was ratified by the larger body. We two have joined ourselves together and now we grant the opportunity for a handful of friends and family to bless us with their presence at a formal gathering.

Bubbles in champagne are fine for her but she will drive me nuts when I see her listlessly shaking a soda bottle to agitate out the carbonation- the most decadent thing the common folk has, which somehow burns her tongue unsatisfactorilly. I crave that burn I imagine in the same way a cat likes being petted. Rebecca is mystery.

She doesn't like Pepsi either but she will drink Dr. Pepper. Supposedly she also needs glasses but whether or not she is wearing them never has any bearing on her driving or disposition. If I can't read people's facial expressions at 60 feet I feel incredibly handicapped.

She will brag to you if you let her or give her half a foothold about bringing our two dogs into our life... she is, as usual right. Somehow she has my tastes figured out.

There are some things she does like. Every time I do the dishes I feel like a knight who just slew the dragon from her fawning praise. She likes Simba too, not just Jett and Willa. Simba is far more privileged than the dogs and I am always having to crusade for their right to sleep in bed with us but she says they wake her up on some frequency of occaision but she says my snoring is comforting- that alone is a miracle.

She likes it when I sing to her and play the piano... or at least she has reaffirmed that stance the last 70 times I have doubled checked with her about it.

She doesn't like the tops of strawberries either, so I get to eat those- essentially it's free lettuce- land nature's version of the free crunchy bits that come on shrimp tails which she doesn't eat either, she still calls it seafood even if many many folks call shrimp bugs.

She loves puzzles, crafts, origami, knitting, crocheting (she can even explain the difference between the two but I can't promise you will remember after she or anyone else does) cooking (but cooking is much easier for her if she knows what I like- the great dissonance is I like whatever she cooks, as long as it isn't so contrived that it becomes difficult for me to shovel it into my mouth, so then I get told I have to pick something but thinking isn't always something I can readily do) and watching television about gossiping melodramas of the upper class, which keeps a fire under me steadily as I go to work so we can buy more versions of dog toys we already have.

I will admit that I was so tickled at "Bark's Woof Beer" that we found at Cargo Largo (another thing she knew I would love- a discount retail store fueled by Amazon returns) that I bought 6 of them- bottle-shaped squeaker toys that now fit perfectly in my wooden 6-pack holder that her older sibling Z got me for Christmas one year. I have decided that I will hold them forever and when we get a garage fridge- a good and proper garage fridge that looks kinda shitty but always has soda and beer in it, there those will sit in perpetuity. For now they are up on top of a cat tree- Simba's territory, not for dogs. We did also get 2 of the woof beer for Jett and Willa to play with- I am not a monster.

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