Rule #3: Never trust a pirate with a..... actually, just don't trust any pirates.

Today is Thursday though when I awoke this morning I would have sworn up and down that it was Friday.

Sadly disappointed.

That's continued all day too. Usually one can get hold of these things, turn your brain around and make it accept the reality of a Thursday (a much maligned day if you ask me, it isn't really all that bad - it'd have much more of a chance if it weren't sitting next to such an entirely fabulous day). Today I did not manage to wrap my brain around anything.

All in all though, it was an excellent day.

And this is why.

I went to work, and spent all day dressed as Joan of Arc. (I had a sword and everything, courtesy of Adam)

Because I work at a job where such things are not only allowed but are in fact encouraged.

My boss spent half the day as Dora the Explorer.

Another boss spent half the day as the Queen of Hearts.

I had a pumpkin, a beach bum, a princess, and the Fonz for coworkers today.

I love my job.

I work here : Happy Place

Rule #2: Blue isn't actually the color that describes sadness, green is.

Hooray! I got Laura to post. This is just the beginning. Soon I will have to withhold things like chocolate and toast from her to get her to write, but write she will. Random stuff will follow. Musings on food, life, and food. Oh I said that twice. Well, I apparently am supposed to be cuddling someone now. Until next time.

Rule #1: Nobody Likes to Be Big Spoon

It's Sunday afternoon and darling husband says I can't have any cuddles until I write a post.
Cuddles are a major source of motivation for me because I am poorly.

Can you believe that my husband is using cuddles against a poorly wife?

It's quite shocking. Gasp inducing if you will.

Despite the shocking nature of this denial of cuddles, I am motivated. Apparently it's working.

So here goes.

I suppose we could start at the beginning.

We got married!

Except that's not really the beginning at all.

One time we got engaged.

But that's not really where we should begin I think.

We should really start here:

And here:

A random combination perhaps, but true nevertheless.

Adam and I met at institute.

Because of his shoes.

Maybe we shouldn't even start there, but even further back.

Here?

That's probably too far. (And yes, that really is me)

This makes more sense:

What are we even doing in Virginia?

Well, I will tell.

Because I am sure you are just dying to know. (Well, I'm going to tell you what I was doing here at least)

I was working (I always want to end that with the phrase "as a waitress in a cocktail bar") full time at a mediation center in Ogden, UT.

And when I say working what I really mean is: I was running it single handed.

In the meantime I was teaching at Weber State University, plying the unsuspecting public with a highly addictive substance and taking classes for a degree in my first love.

History.

Sigh of happiness.

Not to worry about the highly addictive substance, I wasn't endangering any innocents. I was just working here:

My contract (it was an Americorp job) at the mediation center was almost up. And my professor called one day and said:

"Would you like to go to DC?"

and I said

"Why yes, I would."

And that's how I ended up in Virginia. Living in a 6x10 room that I found on the lds listserve out here and doing an internship in Arlington. (The town, not the cemetery)

And then I fell in love.

But not with Adam yet.

Just Virginia.

So I went back to Utah for the Christmas break.

And then I came back to VA for another internship.

Because I loved the trees (the Scottish girl in me just loves and misses her trees).

And my roommates.

And the City of Washington D.C. All the living history here is amazing.

And it's beautiful too.

But back to the story.

Adam, Institute, and those shoes.

I went to Institute on Thursday Sept 4th, 2008.

It was my first week in the DC area. And my new roommate's boyfriend took me.

Afterward I saw this guy. With some awesome shoes on. Made of burlap. Seriously.

I love shoes.

And I love to give compliments.

So I combined both and told the tall guy with the good shoes that I liked those shoes. A lot.

In response to said compliment I received a slightly puzzled look and a half-hearted "thanks."

Adam thought I was sort of nuts. I don't know why but he says no one had ever commented on the shoes. Which I think is crazy. They are pretty marvelous if you ask me.

So, for weeks after that, while I was learning who everyone in the ward was and what their names were Adam was "the kid with the shoes."

And that's the beginning.