Nine years ago today, I met my husband. I was 22 years old, straight out of college, living it up in NYC, and absolutely not looking to settle down. But we don't always get to choose when we fall in love, and the morning after I met Matt, I called my brother and told him I'd found the person I wanted to marry. It's funny how life works: I moved to New York with a job offer from Accenture slated to begin in October, 2001, so to pay the rent between May and October, I got a job waiting tables at Blue Water Grill on Union Square. After September 11th happened, my job offer got pushed back, so I kept working at the restaurant. Matt had been living in New York pursuing a music career for several years, and had worked at Blue Water during part of that time, so we had many friends in common, though we'd never met.
On the night of December 2, 2001, I was working the dinner shift. Many of my co-workers were going to a party for one of the bartenders after work, but I was exhausted, didn't know the bartender very well, and had no plans to go. Around 10pm, though, Matt walked into the restaurant to have a drink before joining everyone for the party, and when my friend Clark introduced us, my plans, um, changed. Here's a photo from the party that night... it's the first ever taken of the two of us together:
We went on our first date the next night, and the rest is history.
A lot has happened in the intervening years - births, deaths, and everything in between. Some days I feel like we just met; others, like we've been together forever... I guess that's just how life is. I sure am glad I went to that party, though, because I wouldn't trade my life for anyone's.
Happy sort-of anniversary, sweetie. I less-than-three you.