You charmed me with your green eyes in 1998. I still remember the way you caught my elbow with your hand as I walked to your car that night. “Stealing my keys, stealing my heart,” your voice pounded in my blood.
You were my first kiss. My first everything. We grew up together – you & I.
High school plays and soccer games, $1 pasta dinners in college, changing careers, and then tiny feet in our hallway.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Jan 4, 2002
2002
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
I love you – then, now, and always.
“I could never do this trip without you.” Tim and I have said that to each other about a hundred times since we started.
Other things? He sets up our non-profit projects, keeps our laptops in working order, writes posts for 
9 years ago tonight, we were driving off in a red jeep with “Just Married” painted across the back.
Yesterday, Tim and I got in a fight about laundry. About 75% of our fights revolve around cleaning (for real).
If you were to see the overarching themes of my life (if you could hear the music of the soundtrack of me…), you would undoubtedly see beauty and wonder, love and magic. You would hear a glorious symphony, with notes of laughter and magnificence. Of course, there would also be sad tunes and stomping marches…but mostly, you’d hear a comforting melody.
The intent of the question is to encourage both of us to think critically about how our actions affect each other. For example, I might say, “You embarrassed me when you said...” Or he might say, “I could see down your shirt when you bent over.” We tell each other if we were too grouchy, too harsh, too flirtatious, or too careless. We tell each other if we laughed too loud or had broccoli in our teeth or lacked empathy.
There was one redemptive moment of 
And, in that department? I have absolutely no regrets. As Tim put it a few days ago, “It’s nice to be able to say, ‘We’ve been married almost a decade and our marriage is awesome.’” In the early years, people looked at our intense happiness and wild romanticism and tight friendship and said, “Newlyweds!” Now, they’re not quite sure what to do with us. ;)
San Diego. Summer 2001. — While vacationing with my family in California, I stopped in at a ritzy bridal boutique in an upscale mall. Almost instantly, I saw IT. I don’t remember exactly what the dress looked like, but I remember it made me feel like I was walking on air. I don’t remember what was on the price tag, but I knew it was too much. Tim & I were both in college, broke and eating noodles. My parents had six kids and had expressed that they intended to keep everything thrifty (In the end, I think the entire wedding cost under $2,000).
Back home, my mom drove me to a small dive of a bridal shop in southwest Tucson. They were having a sale. I tried on an off-the-shoulder dress with beading and a train for $99. To this day, I’m not totally certain if everyone was oohing and aahing at the price or the dress. We bought it, took it home, and hung it on the back of my sister’s bedroom door. I cried that night. (And, perhaps, a few nights after that). Petty? Yes. I know.
