Let me tell you a little story.

One day five years ago, I decided to do something a little bit different. I was a day away from turning 30 (ick) and I had been flirting for months with a woman via Twitter. She was friends and ex-coworkers with a girl that I had dated several months previous, and she was absolutely hilarious.

We had started out just saying hi and exchanging amusing observations on the nature of the world 140 characters at a time, and proceeded promptly to trying to make each other laugh as much as possible . . . which is the same as flirting for the socially awkward-but-still-fun-loving. It was too bad she lived on the exact opposite side of town as I did. A seemingly-insurmountable distance of over 50 miles and at least an hour of driving even in the best of traffic.

Then one day this same girl mentioned that she was going to be somewhere that I could manufacture an excuse to show up. In fact, I hardly had to manufacture it. It was an Arizona Renaissance Festival entertainer’s workshop, and I had been an entertainer for years and was supposed to attend all such workshops (I just didn’t because: arrogant and lazy). It turned out her teenage daughter had signed up to be an entertainer and so she was having to tag along because: parenthood.

I showed up, and my life changed.

1,827 days ago, I met my future wife for the very first time.

Happy anniversary, love. Here’s to five, and fifty more.

 

This is from that very first year at the Festival and is the face I tend to get when I try to take photos. This or like she just had a stroke, one of the two. It MUST be love.
This is from that very first year at the Festival and is the face I tend to get when I try to take photos. This or like she just had a stroke, one of the two. It MUST be love.

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