33 Candles

Today is this boy’s birthday.


He’s turning a young and spry 33.

There are the all-important birthday milestones we hit along the way: 16, because you get your driver’s license; 18, because you are officially an “adult” (whether you act like one or not); 21, because it’s now legal to drink (woo – toss out the fake ID!); and 30, because leaving your 20s is beyond tragic. After 30, the panic attacks that accompany getting another year older seem to fade. Gone are the insecurities of our youth. Being in your 30s is cool. Sure we don’t seem to bounce back quite as easily after a night of drinking as we did in our 20s, but now that we’re a mature 30+ we have had years of experience and know our limits… right? After 30, birthdays become purely a day of celebration.

And so here we are. My guy is turning 33, and special things have been planned. Things that can’t yet be mentioned because the birthday boy is a continent away at the moment. The big celebration will happen this coming weekend.

And so today, I toast the birthday boy from afar:

Happy Birthday baby. 32 was a rollercoaster of adventure with our big move overseas. It’s been a year of grand adventures and new experiences. A year of many firsts. It’s been a blessing and a privilege to be your wife and see you grow into the wonderful man you have become – so kind, generous, loving, and patient (even when I’m not). The kind of guy any woman would be proud to stand next to, but luckily you chose me. If the last two weeks have been any indication, I just do not work without you – you truly are the best part of me. And 33? If the next few months are any indication, this year is going to be an amazing one. Now hurry home to me so we can really celebrate in style!




Today we are celebrating 5 years.

11 years ago I swore I was going to buckle down. Focus more on school, focus less on boys. Sometimes things do not work out as you plan.

On my first day back in Los Angeles after returning from summer vacation, my best friend introduced me to a guy she befriended over the summer. He was a long-haired, Metallica-loving boy who was excitedly waving a guitar pic around his fraternity house. That guitar pic was a token keepsake caught while at the previous night’s Metallic concert – a pic personally thrown by James Hetfield. A house party a week later led to a night spent talking into the wee wee hours of the morning. The topics of conversation are long forgotten, but I do remember that although both of us struggled to keep our eyes open, neither wanted to be the one to end the night. And that’s where our story began.

11 years together. 5 years married.

In that time we have lived in three different cities and adventured through 14 countries. We expanded our little family by two and moved to a country on a whole different continent thousands of miles away from all those near and dear to us. We have shared a love of sour beers, epic nerd/fantasy novels, and Harry Potter. We learned that every marriage is put to the test at one point or another, and that you can’t take each other for granted. We come first. We realized that marriage is not 50/50 all the time – sometimes you have to give more than you get. We discovered (thankfully) that we can spend weeks together non-stop just the two of us without wanting to kill each other, and that we can miss each other like crazy after only a single night away. Most importantly, we learned that love really can conquer all.

I can’t imagine sharing this life, this love, and this adventure with anyone else.


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