Year 1

I love my wife.  She's amazing.  She's super smart, dead sexy and she laughs at all my jokes, even if that joke is about my balls.  She's funny, articulate, classy, huggable...she's awesome sauce.  She makes a mean Mac and Cheese, has an eye for design, and is an incredible photographer.  I mean, look at this:

She's loyal, enjoys Veuve Clicquot and Futurama, and doesn't think any less of me for my love of all things Gilmore Girls.  She deals with the 24 hour sports-cycle in our house, owns the world's greatest TV and I'm just gonna come out and say it: she has a great ass.

As of May 1st, 2011, I'll have been married to this wonderful woman for one full year.  Why she's put up with all my shit for this long is beyond me.  She really, really can do better.

You know what makes me sad though?  Assuming I haven't yet died from my 3rd heart attack, let's say we're married for 50 years.  As of yesterday, our marriage is now 1/50th over (sniff).

I think I'll just have to hug her extra tight tonight.