Happy one year, Andrew

While I never intended to turn my blog into a couple blog I will say that I write about Andrew a lot more than I ever thought I would. I've been intensely private about our relationship because I don't think it's something the whole world needs to see, but I've finally decided to share our story for those who are curious.

The first time I saw Andrew, it wasn't love at first sight. I knew from a) the fact that he was wearing a Threadless t-shirt (I Listen to Bands that don't even Exist Yet) and b) that he was discussing a Death Cab/Tegan and Sara concert with someone, he thought he was a hipster. I wasn't impressed.

The first time we actually met was at a gathering in a friend's backyard. Our conversation started with Sufjan Stevens, moved on to his love of Neil Young, and concluded with discussion about our mutual love for documentary film. I realized he didn't think he was a hipster and was much more impressed.

On our second meeting, he remembered my name but I had forgotten his. We talked politics, of our hatred for Glenn Beck, and I promised to let him borrow a David Sedaris book that took place mainly in Japan, where Andrew had lived for a short while.

After a few walks to free, outdoor, weekly concerts, movies at the Broadway, and various musical exchanges, we were inseparable. Summer came. It was filled with bicycle rides, concerts, good food, good film, and occasional road trips. Summer left. It was time for me to move to a different city. I told him I loved him and he announced he wanted to marry me. 2.5 months later we made it official.