Happy Anniversary to Me (and Evan)!

Look, Mom, we're still married one year later!

A little anniversary note I typed to myself on the new (old) typewriter Evan gave me. 

The traditional one-year anniversary gift is paper, and you'll note that he gave me a pack of paper, too. You'll also note that people in 1926 were quite serious, as there is no exclamation point on this old girl. This morning I briefly considered switching over my blog entirely to typewriter, but it's loud, difficult, and I'm afraid I couldn't convey the generally high excitement level in my life without my favorite punctuation mark.

It's an Underwood, just like my boy Frank uses in House of Cards. 

Just call me Frank.

In this glorious first year of marriage, Evan and I have both learned many things. He learned not to dry my sweaters, and what a peony plant looks like. I learned not to worry about what the annual $60 charge to XBOX Live is for, and that it's not polite to hit snooze more than two times in a morning (the fact that I learned this does not necessarily mean that I've been able to stop myself from such rude behavior).

I've come to grips with the fact that I may never break Evan of the habit of leaving half-drunk cans of Coke perched precariously in the refrigerator, though I've made it clear that I will not be cleaning up the mess if one of them spills.

Evan has come to understand that my drawers simply are harder to close than his are, so they may just have to be left open a little bit from time to time.

We've both learned that cake one year later is not quite as wonderful as it was when it was first baked … but it's still pretty delicious.