One Year Anniversary

Put on your lovey dovey pants, turn up your speakers louder than usual, and enjoy mine and Sarah's wedding highlights video of a video.

Today marked Sarah and I's 365th day as a married couple. I'd love to take a peak into the lives of others beyond us in marriage years. We have each heard, on more than one occasion, that the 1st year of marriage was the hardest, but we completely fail to understand how that is. I hope, so sincerely, not to sound boastful in saying all this. It really has been a breeze thus far. There are most certainly difficult days. To Sarah I describe them as days where I just want to escape into the Alaskan wilderness. It is by no means an escape from her, but just an escape. I usually feel it when school is getting me down, when I feel too tired to entertain or be entertained, when I'm questioning my future career, and when I'm scared that my future is all the more important to realize because someone is now apart of it with me, and now two someones in a few months. Now, let it be clear that we have probably dodged a few unnecessary fights simply because we didn't know there may have been something worth getting flustered over.  In this year I certainly didn't tell Sarah every bit of truth I had in me (like the time I used her towel to clean up water from under a leaking refrigerator ), and I'm sure she hasn't told me every bit of truth she still holds (I'm a bit suspicious that instead of cleaning up crumbs, she pushes them off the counter, or under the microwave). Maybe that's a flaw, or maybe that's the trick: keep some things to yourself; I don't know. It sounds bad saying "keep secrets", but honestly those crumbs I don't know about certainly don't bother me. Again, those beyond me in marriage years may be shaking their head in disapproval of this mentality. If so, when did you learn? Is "complete honesty" a thing? If it's real, then I'm certain I'll learn it.

Fun conversation that just occurred at the start of our 2nd year together.

Sarah: "Did we eat dinner?"

Me: "If you're hungry, eat something."

Sarah: "But I can't tell if I'm hungry."

Me: "You've asked me 3 times if we've had dinner. You're hungry. Eat something."

Sarah: "Ok."

We tried to remember our biggest fights and we each came up with one we remembered. To each one listed, the other could hardly remember the issue at hand. It was only a big deal to one of us, and now it is nothing but a memory. My memory was the time we discussed going to the gym together. I was pushing Sarah too hard and not accepting yoga as enough, encouraging she do weight lifting also (which she isn't entirely opposed to, she just doesn't love it). In her memory was the time I wanted to borrow a fairly large amount of money from a friend. We had forgotten rent, and according to the obnoxious pounding at the front door by our landlord, she hadn't forgotten. Our bank was closed, and the ATM wouldn't allow a withdrawal of the amount needed. I suggested we just borrow from a friend, pay our landlord, then pay our friends back after that weekend when we could access a bank teller. I don't even know if these two examples were big enough fights for me to say "lesson learned". I'd probably push Sarah again, and I'd probably suggest borrowing money again. Wait a minute... were each of those situations MY fault??!! This is enlightening. I'm sure there's a lesson to be learned in that fact alone.

Today we did something that we intend to make an anniversary tradition. TVA, Temple View Apartments, are the on-campus married housing apartments that we're dying to get into. We'd save a couple hundred a month living there, be closer to campus and friends, and have a place we'd be staying in until our stay here is over. It would offer great security in our position as residents of Laie and attendees of BYU-H. The TVA admittance process revolves around a wait-list that has only ever been a headache and there are all types of conspiracies as to whether or not there's even a list at all. Sept '11 we were number 143, Jan '12 we were 74, and we hear tales of people being number 130 getting in in a couple months time. hmm...

There's a man put in charge of this process. He get's calls, answers inquiries, organizes the applications, sends e-mails, and is responsible for who ultimately ends up where. Whether he does this alone, or with a team, I don't know, nor do I care. Today, Sarah and I made him cookies. We brought them into the office, where he was typing up e-mails after their closing hours, and presented them to him with these words: "We're aware of all the work you have ahead of you these next couple of weeks, and all you've done up to this point. We made you cookies, and to ensure that these aren't bribery cookies, we aren't telling you who we are. Hope you enjoy them. We're going now." and we walked out. He looked so happy, and even if he never thinks on that moment again it doesn't matter. We walked out and high-fived each other because we felt so good about what we had done. We want to do something kind for someone on every anniversary.

We also went for a walk today sharing head phones, had a fine dining experience at the ever-so-classy Taco Bell, sat at the TVA playground and talked for an hour, and got some free stuff: cotton-balls, an ice tray, cocoa-butter lotion, and this sweet canvas:

Is he looking over his left shoulder or over his right?

What the heck are lovey dovey pants?