In October 2020, I was faced with a question that changed the course of my life: "What is your favorite Coen Brothers' movie?" As I weighed the options in painstaking detail, it occurred to me that, beyond just answering the question at hand (I landed on No Country for Old Men), I should really learn more about the person who asked such a thought-provoking question in the first place. Her name was Emily, and I knew she was single because this whole interaction took place on the dating app Hinge. Promising! The next handful of weeks were defined by my propensity for self-sabotage and Emily's uncanny ability to somehow pick up all the pieces and keep us moving forward. I cancelled our first scheduled date, at which point Emily told me she was traveling to Florida on vacation. I thought for sure that would be the end of it, but she actually texted me when she got back, and we put a new date on the calendar - anyone familiar with dating in NYC knows how shocking that story is. Fast-forward to date day, and - we have a nor'easter to contend with. It's literally raining sideways, and this was still when outdoor dining was our only option. I thought about cancelling again because who in god's name wants to sit outside in those conditions? I texted my friend Alli for advice, and she poignantly warned me that if I did so, that would very likely be the end of our story. Thankfully, we both made the decision to tough it out, and there we sat - two yuppies looking for love; shivering under a semi-functioning heat lamp in full winter garb at Supper in the East Village. This date went so well that, two vodkas in, I decided to invite her to the Halloween party I was having on my roof that upcoming weekend. Once party day came around, I began to regret this decision - it was simply too soon for her to meet my rambunctious friends. Plus, I didn't want to be tied down at my own party, unable to mingle with all the guests freely. I came to the conclusion that I simply would not reach out to Emily at all with the details of where to show up and when (I don't know wtf was wrong with me). Of course, she heroically stepped up and texted me instead: "So, are you going to tell me what the deal is with this party?" After a borderline anxiety attack, my better nature won out and I sent the information. She showed up, we had a great time, she gained early exposure to my friends and wasn't scared away - we might have something here. There were a few other balls dropped by me along the way, but we really found our groove at the start of 2021. Since then, we have managed to buy an apartment in the Lower East Side, traveled far and wide together sharing the best of times in the Catskills, San Francisco, Maine, Cape Cod, Florida, Iceland, Israel, Fair Lawn for six months, and the main event: Mexico City. We spent three weeks exploring the vibrant, unique neighborhoods, eating the incredible food, and taking in the art & culture. We fell in love with the darn place and decided we simply had to share it with all of you. Of course, in order to get you all here, I had to propose. It only took me about 4 dates to realize she was the woman I was going to marry. This gave me plenty of time to come up with a plan that would knock her socks off. With MAJOR assists from our respective families, we pulled off quite the NYC weekend beginning with a scenic proposal at pier 17 followed by a helicopter ride around Manhattan, dinner at Dead Rabbit, a set at the Comedy Cellar, and brunch at Tavern on the Green. I texted my brother on the ride over to the proposal site, "She has no idea". Turns out, she knew. She always knows. I suspect this will be a recurring theme.