So today is the seventh anniversary of marrying Cody. I can’t believe that part but what I really can’t believe is this summer we’ll have been together nine years. NINE. One two three four five six seven eight NINE YEARS.

Eight and three-quarter years ago on a summer day I met this blind date in the garden dining area of Harry’s Roadhouse. This date was a big deal because he was the first blind date from out of town that was willing to drive up to Santa Fe. I hadn’t seen him and the only photo of me that he’d seen was a pretentious black and white of me looking wan and goth taken by Will (who you can see smiling away at us in the above photo) during a trip to Rome. I was running late. Of course. I asked the girl at the counter if a tall guy with dark hair was waiting for someone. He was out back.

I was wearing oversized black overalls and a white t shirt sporting lots of wet reddish brownish hair on my head. I was thinner then. We both were. Not skinny by any means but definitely thinner than we are now. I’d brought my sketchbook with the nude self-portraits I’d started drawing recently. It didn’t occur to me at the time what an oddly forward thing this was. It was my art. What I’d been studying in school. I’d been doing nudes for years it really didn’t seem like that weird a thing anymore. The job I had at the time was allegedly being the assistant editor and head electronic editor for Woman Santa Fe Magazine (but had really turned out to be advertising salesperson and parttime worker for the magazine owners’ juice company) was in a slow decline.

This guy was tall with a big poof of dark hair, somehat thin for very large big frame, and big kind blue eyes behind huge geeky glasses. He spoke softly but with a deep voice if that makes any sense. I kept having to lean in to hear what he was saying. He commented that he liked that I was really paying attention. He was sweet and was very polite about my sketchbook full of odd drawings and collages.

When we finished eating we went to the parking lot and compared who had a messier car. I think I won but just because my car was a four door and his was only two. He followed me to my place. (Yeah, I hear you, STUPID STUPID Girl! Taking a stranger to your place STUPID). In my defense, my friend Jocelyn had his number. She had my number. I had lots of neighbors. And he was a nice gentle guy. I knew that. I pride myself on my ability to bead in on personalities fairly quickly. And to be honest there have only been a few surprises.

He met my kitties. Love me, love my cats. Melon had a favorite toy at the time that was a neat wand fishing pole thing made of plastic tubing with thick plastic wire with a big feather on the end. We hung out on the sofa and played with my cats. I was totally happy. He was worried that he was being dull. We went downtown to the new (at the time) location of the Atomic Cafe, got some iced coffee and sat by the fountain. We walked by some art galleries and argued about abstract art. He was a strict photorealistic watercolor guy that admittedly knew little about art but knew what he liked. It was a strictly intellectual argument, not personal. And kind of fun to have a male intellectual equal. We went back to my apartment.

And talked and played on my computer all night. We kissed exactly once. Then we went to breakfast at Tecolote. He had to be back in Albuquerque later that morning so he left.

That night he came back up to Santa Fe. I cooked pasta. He brought his acoustic guitar. There was a moment while I was cooking and he was sitting at the table tuning his guitar and it was like home. That was it. He sang “Romeo and Juliet” to me. That was really it. We’ve been together ever since.

Seven years ago we had a very fancy wedding in Santa Fe. A big to do at the Loretto Chapel and La Fonda’s la terrazza ballroom. We’d already bought our house the fall before. And after living together since the summer we met we knew what we were getting into. By living together you get a pretty good idea of the person you’re marrying. But I also believe that living together and being married are distinctly separate experiences. Which is why I believe strongly that everyone should have the option to do either if they want to.

We didn’t do much yesterday. Slept late, took a shower, and went out to dinner with his parents. Got coffee on the way home. And it was fun. We haven’t really taken an official “romantic trip” together since our honeymoon in New Orleans. To us daily life is the romance. I married a guy I’m happy to just run errands and watch television with. To talk to every day. Because to be frank sex and romance are nice but the most time in a relationship with a guy is the dull tedious stuff. Might as well be someone you have fun doing the little things with. Trips to the grocery store are fun because we’re together. We’re happy to eat delivered pizza, sushi at Ichiban, or just pick up some Bubble tea and take Winter to the dog park. And even after seven years of daily married living we’re still happy to wake up to see the other’s face. And amazingly still haven’t run out of things to talk about.