| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
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| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |
aclu
bacon lover
bakerina
caffeine and nicotine
coffee achiever
contentious
crazy us
dooce
economist
gawker
get crafty
grits nyc
jhc fotolog
jitterbean girl
kfk fotolog
kitchenman
laid-off dad
landon in key west
mighty girl
mighty goods
mimi smartypants
not well planned
onion
petit hiboux
piehole
pretentious
rock star diary
secret agent josephine
slate
smitten
sta.r
the man
» News from the homefront
» Look - it's a baby!!!
» There's a tear in my beer 'cause I'm cryin' for you, dear! (Or, "Shut up, kid! Mama is watchin' her stories!!")
» An Open Letter to My Stomach
» Starting on the road to Mommydom
» Is It A Bird? A Plane? Or A Spongebob?
» Happy, Dancing Aliens
Three years ago, I was in a sad, bad place. I had a broken arm, a job I hated, and the sinking suspicion that I would probably never date a man that was not a complete and utter tool.
Three years ago today, I went to the doctor, believing that my cast would be taken off and I would once again join the world of the two-armed. The doctor - who was perhaps one of the tinier and more cheerful Italians - chuckled and told that my arm was actually worse and that I would wear the cast at least three more weeks. Understandably upset by the news, I did what any self-respecting young woman would do: I called my best friend and said I need a pedicure and copious amounts of booze. She, being the amazing friend and cheerful drinker that she is, declared that we would do just that and promised to meet me after work.
Around 2:30 - half day Fridays being one of the few perks of the publishing business - we went and got our nails buffed and then went to one of our favorite watering holes for some beer-based healing. So we plunked ourselves down in the garden and laughed and chatted the hours - oh, yes, I do mean hours - away, taking a break to order Thai food, but mostly just drinking beer. Around 9, it started to drizzle and I was a tipsy young miss with a cast to protect, so we made our way inside and celebrating the saving of the cast with - what else? - beer!
And then! A man walks into the bar. Not just any man, but a cute Irishman who I had met through a good friend who worked at the bar at the time. Now I had thought he was rather fetching and more than a little charming, and I was more than a little tipsy and a whole lot brave. So I said hi. Actually scurried down to the other end of the bar and said hi. (I pretended I was going to the bathroom. Subtle like a sphinx, this one!) He said he would come and sit with me. And he did. And we sat and drank lots of Hoegaarden and had the silliest, most wonderful conversations. Lots of discussions about where he could buy high-quality fishnet stockings to wear with red leather mini skirts. And it was fun, really fun, and goofy and silly and flirty and wonderful.
Around 3am - yes I'd been a drinkin' for nearly twelve hours folks! - we ambled to another bar with a couple of friends. I was more than a little done with the whole imbibing thing at that point but hey, I was with a cute boy who I reallyreallyreally kind of liked a lot and I was going to see this thing through.
So I was leaning back to yawn and he kissed me. And I kissed him back.
That is how it all begin. The Mister and I started making out in public right then and there, and we've never stopped. (No really - ask our friends!) Some day maybe I'll tell you more about all the reasons I love him, all of the wonderful things he is. But for now - dear Mister - let me just say this:
The last three years have been better than good, better than wonderful, and better than I ever knew before I met you. I'll wonder about many things in my life, but I'll never doubt that you are the one who would complete me and who I would share my life with. I love you.
Happy anniversary!
Love,
Your Wifey
PS: You know what he got me for our anniversary? An 8" Wusthof knife! Because nothing says "I love you" like a really sharp knife! Thanks Mister!
Posted at May 31, 2005 04:40 AM
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Oh, you two adorable folks. Congratulations and here's to another three, or thirty.
I agree that there is no greater gift than supersharp intimidating knives and have requested the same for an upcoming gift. Also, a new box of bandaids. And neosporin. Because we know me too well.
Posted by: deb at June 1, 2005 01:48 PM
In honor of your hookup day, I made my Handsome Fella chicken with 40 cloves of garlic (and roasted potatoes!) and thought of y'all. Awwww! xoxo
P.S. It was YUMMY. And now he's doing dishes. Hee.
Posted by: Neighbor(ish) Stacey at June 1, 2005 04:30 PM
I can only hope that someday someone will show their love for me with a super sharp knife.
Three years. Somehow it seems much, much longer...
xoxoxo
Posted by: bl at June 2, 2005 10:47 AM
;)
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