Two Years

Photographer: Ridwan Angkasa

It's hard to believe that it's been two years since I slapped the ole ball and chain on Vincent Chan-- I mean, since I made Vince the happiest man on the planet. Our first anniversary last year was almost a non-event. I mean, we did have a lot going on: Benjamin was just weeks old, and I was stark raving mad from postpartum depression. In fact, I don't even think I made mention of the marriage milestone in my blog. I was probably too busy weeping. Or talking to myself. Anyway, it seems fitting that we'd find many different ways to celebrate this year.
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The revelry began weeks before the actual date of March 25 when Vince took me to see one of my all-time favorite shows, Rent. We made it a double date with our close friends Deb and George.

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Unfortunately, the boys were markedly less enthused about seeing the blockbuster musical than Deb and I were. As we got closer and closer to the Pantages, the expressions on their faces grew more and more stricken. The things you do for love, eh, fellas?

Vince surprised me on the actual day of our anniversary with a beribboned black box. When he handed it to me, I noticed there was a cotton ball inexplicably tucked beneath the red ribbon. "What's with the cotton ball?" I asked, to which he replied - and not with a little bit of smug satisfaction - "Cotton is what you give for a second anniversary." I have to admit that I was pretty awed by this little bit of marital ass-covering! That evening, we enjoyed a home-cooked steak dinner together before I left to attend a wine mixer with the neighborhood moms, leaving Vince free to play video games with his online gaming buddy Shawn. Now, before you start thinking we're unromantic for spending the evening apart, let me just say that I came back from the wine mixer quite tipsy. 'Nuff said.

We closed anniversary week with a traditional dinner and movie date. The dinner was sushi, and the movie was Watchmen. Vince was the one who had chosen the movie - it was purported to have lots of blood, lots of special effects, and lots of nudity. What he didn't realize was that most of the nudity was of the full-frontal male variety. As we left the theater, the grumbling began. "Have you noticed that more and more movies these days are doing that? They only used to show boobies in movies. Now they show the other stuff, too. I mean, aren't there rules against that?" I just laughed and told him that he was turning into an old fogey, which only seemed to incense him more. He wouldn't even let me take a picture of him to mark our date! If he's like this now, I wonder what he'll be like in fifty years when he actually is an old fogey. I look forward to finding out.

Happy Anniversary, my sweeties. Here's to many more years' worth of full-frontal male nudity-filled movie dates together. I love you.