An open letter to my loving wife, Janie, on the 8th anniversary of our first date, not counting that one-night stand two years prior


This is Rutherford B. Hayes and his wife on their wedding day.  Gosh, Janie…this reminds me so much of us.  Look at the indifference on their faces…the take ir or leave it-ness.  It is like they could not talk or talk forever and still find things to not talk about.  Just like you and me.  And like those two, I’m unmoved by our totally generic love for one another.  I think you’re really, really average and I’m looking forward to at least 2-2/3 more years of garden-variety marriage before we fall apart at the seams and you move to your parents house with Carson and those other two cats I can’t be bothered to remember to feed anymore.

Eight years ago today we had our first date at Typhoon! where I was wearing jeans and a black sweater and you wore something.  I’m sure you were dressed but really, let’s be honest, I was probably picturing you with your top off the whole time and couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to what clothes you had on.  It was to be a precursor for the next eight years of our life together…you wearing a top and me imagining you are not wearing a top.

We have had our ups and downs, that’s for sure.  Mostly ups, thankfully, but there were some downs and let’s not forget about those so that we can learn from them.  Specifically, I want you to learn that you shouldn’t wear a top around me, I absolutely did not move any of those bills you have misplaced, all that online shopping wasn’t done by me (God, no), there is really no good reason for you to tell me to fuck off like that one time I thought you did but misheard but I still blame you for doing it because it really sounded like you said it and even if it didn’t happen the idea that it did has hurt my feelings and the litter boxes won’t scoop themselves and God knows those three selfish cats can’t be bothered to do anything but shit in or around them and then beg for more food and pretend like we don’t exist much of the rest of the time.  I will continue to learn how awesome I am and how lucky you are to have me.  Also, I have learned to build myself a panic room in a safe location not anywhere you know in the event that you decide to murder me in my sleep or not in my sleep.  You don’t need to bother looking for it because you will never find it.  It is definitely not a carved out space between the mattresses.  Absolutely not.

Thank you for agreeing to be my wife despite, well, everything…not the least of which is this website.  I say a lot of things here about you and, as you know, a good 97% of it is grossly exaggerated or completely true.  The rest is just insane ramblings and pictures of our dog.  Anyway, what I’m trying to say  is that I love you and I’m happy to call you my wife and best friend and some of those other things that I can’t talk about because my mom reads this now.  You’re the greatest thing to ever come into my life, and I happen to have had a lot of good things come my way, so  you know, you’re super!

Also, when I came home just now I burned all your tops.  HAHAHAHAHA.  Happy Anniversary!


  1. Janie
    February 22, 2010

    Thanks little lady. I love you so.
    Hey, wait a minute…
    Where’d all my tops go?!?

  2. February 23, 2010

    Awwwww… get a room you two. And by that I don’t mean a virtual blog room that anyone can stumble across
    .-= XUP´s last blog ..Blog Commenting =-.

  3. E's Mom
    February 23, 2010

    This would probably be the wrong time to mention that Typhoon! has gone belly up, right?

  4. February 26, 2010

    happy gay lady marriage day to you both! i never for one second believe that janie is capable of all the misdeeds you accuse her of 😉
    .-= leah´s last blog ..FUN STUFF! on twitter =-.

  5. Monica
    February 26, 2010

    I laughed super duper hard while reading this. And Janie, your comment makes me sad. In my heart I wanted to believe that she did NOT really burn the shirts.

    You guys are lucky to have each other. Now come to NY,damnit.

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