First Few Days

We sat watching episodes of How I Met Your Mother all day and decided to leave the house to go dancing.  No one was out because it was New Year's Day.  We drank vodka sodas and sat on the long booth between the 80s room and the room with house music. We talked about theme songs. I told you mine was "Miss You" by the Rolling Stones and sang the "hoo hoo OOO ooo ooo-oo-ooo." I said it wasn't really a theme song as much as the song you wanted playing when you walked into a room.  You thought yours could be Amerie's "1 Thing." You said you would want something playful and I said, "Stick with me, kid." You laughed genuinely.  I winked at you.

We talked about how we didn't have a song. I told you I hoped the DJ would play "Crazy in Love" so I could bust out the Wii moves I learned.  You said you thought about having that as your theme song, but that it was sort of your song with Ben.

We practiced winking at each other all night. We are both terrible at winking.

I told you I wanted you to teach me how to cook.  I told you about the New York Times article on happy marriages, about partners whose skills differ because they expand the other's knowledge and experiences, so if you taught me how to cook, we would both be happy. But then you asked me what I could teach you, and I could think of nothing.  I said I could teach you that it's okay to be embarrassed; I could teach you jokes; I could teach you how to write in journals; I couldn't teach you anything! You said the first one was enough, and it would take a lifetime.

You asked me what I had planned for the night. I said I was thinking about updating le blog, you made fun of me, and I joked that you hated it, but you said it was cute.  "I always imagine you're writing about me."


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