Nine years ago today, on a Wednesday, I went on the very best (and, I hope, my very last) first date ever. There are prettier pictures of us, but me on the couch with my laptop and he making funny faces, well…yep. Day-in-the-life.
It’s possibly the very definition of annoying couple-dom, but I don’t tend to keep track of what happened between what birthdays or calendar years. I’m much more likely to mark a milestone in relation to February 27th, and it’s the time of year I’m most likely to reflect on, well, the State of the Union.
One year was when we went to see Dave Eggers. Three years and we went from long distance to living together. Five years I had really dark hair. Six years we moved to Denver (literally, on our anniversary we pulled the U-Haul into our rental on 36th Avenue) and adopted a dog. Seven years we bought our house.
And nine! We celebrated by dropping $200 on new running shoes for each of us, slightly less than that on the fanciest brunch in Denver, and exchanging boring gifts and sentimental letters. We tried taking self timer photos but they were awkward:
and we were running late for our reservation so we finally just captured the day with Photo Booth:
No running! No stiff poses! And you get to see what your hair is doing before you snap a photo!