By Amanda Goodman

In the fall of 2008, I wound up on the local news as a recent college graduate who was unable to find non-retail work. I never saw the interview, but my coworkers talked about it for a week. The economy had just bottomed out and I was one of the lucky ones who had worked her way through college, so I still had my job. However, the muscle-ripping work (literally!) was not paying the bills. The career center at UNC-Asheville talked me into doing an interest assessment. The results of that test and a dozen other ones came back with only one career choice: librarianship. After the televised interview, I decided to make the switch and go to graduate school.

The move to Greensboro was my first serious time away from home and out on my own. I was unprepared on the second day of the semester to be unable to find parking. This was my only daytime class and I was circling. Circling. Circling. I had no idea about the layout of campus and only had my expensive pink parking pass to rely on. Class started twenty minutes ago. Then thirty. I was trembling on the edge of just giving up and going home when I spied a spot. I dove in. When I opened the door to Dr. Bird’s Collection Management class, I was forty minutes late. I felt slightly better when two other students showed up even later.

Dr. Bird was having us go around the room stating our name, our undergraduate degree(s), and a unique fact about ourselves. I racked my brain and vowed to not say something related to books. Then it dawned on me: I was certified to drive a forklift (thanks, Walmart!). To me, my tidbit was unusual and maybe just a little bit funny. However, unknown to me, it had caught the attention of another student: Thomas Kozak.

Now, if you ask her, Dr. Bird likes to joke and take the credit that Thomas and I went on to marry (we worked together on a collection development plan for a museum that semester). She is only half correct– we had another class in which we spent a lot more time instant messaging each other back and forth than paying attention. While I had zero intention of finding someone while in graduate school, I did post a hopeful inquiry on Facebook asking if anyone wanted to come with me to the Weatherspoon Museum. Thomas contacted me immediately. Thus started our tradition of me always forgetting to not wear clickity heels to a museum while he tries not to laugh.

What makes this relationship unique? It could be that we dressed to the nines to impress each other at the 2009 department Halloween party (we were dating two weeks later). Or that we sew steampunk costumes together, and then later worked together on my wedding dress. He gave up his job and followed me to Connecticut when I was hired at Darien Library a month after graduation. He did not even hesitate.