It's the seventh anniversary of the day Jason and I stood in front of our friends and family, looked at each other and said "You in? Like, for forever?" "Yeah. You?" "Definitely. Let's do this."
It was infinitely more poetic than that.
Seven years isn't one of the big ones. It's not the first one. It's not the tenth one. It's just the seventh one. Seven kind of hangs out in the corner sipping an 18-year single malt whiskey while one, ten, twenty-five and fifty tap dance across the stage and pound margaritas while fireworks go off all around them.
Those who read this blog know about pretty much everything that's happened to us for the last five of those seven years. But, of course, our history started long before that. It started on a very usual day in January of 1996. Neither of us knew it at the time but the courses of both our lives changed forever on that otherwise usual day in January of 1996.
And because I'm home alone with a box of photos and a scanner, here are a few bits and pieces of our history... Times, they have changed. Dramatically.
We were a couple of dirty hippies in our early days. Literally. That's actual dried mud on our faces. I don't know what smearing mud warpaint on ourselves had to do with protecting the Eno River but I guess that's what happens when you're young and impressionable.
In our first shitty apartment...
With shitty mismatched furniture...
Our first fur-child, George:
Jason has always taken great pleasure in torturing me with the camera. PS - bitchin' scrunchie!
And I do mean always.
Trying our best to dress and act like real grown ups for Joe and Amy's rehearsal dinner:
And then it was our turn. I had no idea I would become his fiance the day after this picture was taken.
I'll be honest. I just like this one because I long for the days when my thighs didn't touch. And I miss that cowboy hat.
With weddings come bachelorette parties. Mine was a very classy affair. Pay no attention to those red traveler cups we carried onto the White Horse suburban. (Our driver loved us.) Class all the way.
Heather sandwich! Looks like I put the "ass" in "class" later that evening. At least I had the good sense to appear shocked and scandalized. No photos of Jason's bachelor party exist. Because guys are smart like that.
And finally, the day was here. The day we promised to have each others backs forever more. The day we exchanged rings that were engraved with "toujours", French for "always".
And we cemented this promise with two and a half weeks in Italy and approximately two hundred kilos of pasta and gelato.
Clearly, we've gone through a lot of changes over the years. Some good. (Tie-dye??? WTF was I thinking???) Some bad. (I'm looking at you, thighs.)
In spite of ourselvesWe'll end up sitting on a rainbowAgainst all odds, honey we're the big door prizeAnd we're gonna spite our noses right off of our facesThere won't be nothing but big ol' hearts dancing in our eyesFrom In Spite of Ourselves by John Prine