If the ten-year wedding anniversary is something made of tin or aluminum, I think I will get divorced at year nine. Actually, I'm not too keen on year one either - paper? - ... unless it's in the form of cold hard cash. "No, honey, I don't want your cheap ass card saying happy anniversary, but I'd love a Benjamin. Or two. Thanks."
Today is my ten-year anniversary of the day I arrived in the Bay Area. Ten years ago tonight, I was in a motel in Vallejo with my boyfriend and his friend who moved out here with us. All of our worldly possessions were in three cars outside, we'd just spent almost two weeks on the road in our last "hurrah" before getting "real jobs," we were getting drunk on a couple bottles of port to celebrate our arrival in Californ-i-a, and we were watching fuzzy HBO (Oz, if memory serves). Said friend later puked on the rug, which was REALLY pleasant for the rest of the week we stayed there while looking for an apartment.
Tonight I'm sitting comfortably amidst all my worldly possessions, drinking just one glass of wine to celebrate, before I watch the Food Network, then the Daily Show, then go to bed.
I think one could say I've grown up a bit over the years.
Happy belated 10th, Jen! Thanks for the walk down memory lane. That Saturday night a decade ago may have found me likewise throwing back a few (Bass, probably) with friends in my basement apartment in Chicago - the one with an air mattress for a bed and roach motels in every corner.
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