Daisy: "Andrew and I met in a Japanese Art History class, of all things, my senior year of undergraduate at The University of South Carolina. I was very focused on finishing up the year, but couldn't quite find a comfortable seat in the small lecture hall. I kept moving to a different row, finally, settling on one with a tall young fella at the end. During lulls in the lecture, I noticed this fella had a sketchbook. Slowly over the next few classes, I noticed he was sketching portraits with a ball point pen in a spiral bound black book. We slowly began to exchange pleasantries, without much thought of anything further. A couple weeks later I happened to miss a class prior to a test and when I entered the school building with every intent of just speed-walking to the professor's room, the tall handsome young man glanced up from the circular table in the foyer and smiled, this killer smile might I add, it stopped me in my tracks. At that moment, a feeling began to grow. Later, when people ask me when I knew, or noticed him, I answer with that anecdote. Later that day, I received my first correspondence from the handsome, tall, stranger named, Andrew. I had only offered my middle name, Daisy, which is what I go by, typically. He had to deduce which email belonged to me. Luckily, he is a great sleuth! After, we began talking more frequently, over the course of the next few weeks. The moment I knew he was 'it', occurred on the eve of my Honors Senior Thesis Art Show reception. Andrew showed up in his Carhart green pants, a button up flannel with a navy vest, and boots, everyone else disappeared, as cliche as that sounds. I hadn't seen him walk in, but my heart stopped. I saw him closely viewing the Mandala drawing, which now resides in our living room. It wasn't until he left, prior to the conclusion of my show, I may add, I realized he was the one I wanted to talk to, share all the details of the evening with, and bathe in his glowing smile."

Andrew: I can remember sitting in the advisor’s office, looking at what classes I had left to take, in order to complete my major. I still needed an art elective, and of course all of the 101 and 102 classes were full with people just trying to fill their schedule. I decided I’d take a challenge, try something new, and picked Japanese art history. Of the 14 people in that class I definitely did not fit in, coming in from my job at the time, which was at a lumber yard, there was no time to change. Covered in sweat, dust and the smell of a long day didn’t help either. After a few weeks of the class, my attention drifted from the day’s assignments and more towards this adorable classmate. The first time I made eye contact I froze and forced a smile, remembering I’m still in everything from work, I blushed hard. One day after class, I asked her if she wanted a ride to her next class on the moped. Yes, a moped. Of course she said no, and I don’t blame her. Strike one. What was I thinking? I decided to ask her on an official date to Bonefish, so we could have time to talk and get a drink to relax. The day of she cancelled, (what she claims to be a good reason) but I took it as getting stood up. Strike two. In my head, I was checked out. The following class I made it a point to hurry out after the lecture and walk to my next class, so I wouldn’t have to see her. As I’m walking away I hear these footsteps running up behind me. It was Daisy chasing me down to try and talk. She explained herself about the previous night and what had transpired. I heard her out as I walked her to the library and thought okay, I’m back in. From there the rest is history, our first official date over-drafted my bank account; I didn’t mind. Between the sing-alongs with Hank Williams Jr, the cigars on the beach, a frantic drive to the airport to catch a flight to New Hampshire, I knew she would be the one. FYI: I got a higher grade on the final in Japanese Art History.