Yesterday my wife and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. It (the wedding) was one heckuva memorable day, which, if you’d like, you can read about right now at www.connotationpress.com. Our friend Erin Badillo also has some great pictures up on her photo blog, which you can check out here.
It’s been a great year as man and wife, and the three-and-a-half years we’ve been together have honestly been the best of my life.
Our celebrating actually began Saturday. My mother babysat while Liz and I partook in a couple’s massage at a swanky spa—where mostly you’re paying for ambiance created by dimmed lights and general cleanliness and lots of wood-burning stoves but which ultimately made for a pleasant and enjoyable way to take a nap—and stayed the night at Lodi’s Hampton Inn, where we’d stayed on our wedding night.
There are lots of nice things about staying at a hotel, one of which is guilt-free cable watching. We don’t have cable at the moment, but as I learned when we did, there’s a certain shame that follows the watching of four consecutive episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter or Storage Wars, a shame that seems not to exist, or at least to be significantly diminished, when doing the same at a hotel.
Here’s a conversation Liz and I had Sunday during our third straight episode of Say Yes to the Dress:
Me: I think we should open a dress shop.
Liz: And what would be your contribution?
Me (after several beats): Bookkeeper.
Me: Or I could learn…whatever the noun form of “seamstress” is.
Liz: You mean “sewing”?
Me: Like I’m sure there’s an official word for it. Like “taxidermy” but for sewing.
Liz: I’m picturing you with a stapler and scotch tape.
Me: I think my strategy would be more to talk them out of the alteration. Like convince them it’s fine.
Liz: This is the worst dress shop ever.
Clearly meant to be together.