Gallo of Sonoma

On October 4, 2001, my best friend showed up at my apartment with a bottle of wine, a bouquet of sunflowers, and a funny card about a trailer park to wish me happy 22nd birthday. He scribbled something inside the card that changed my heart, and ultimately, my life. Not in so many words, he reminded me that I should never settle for anything or more important, anybody. He reminded me that I should be treated well – like a blessing instead of a burden. He reminded me of my self-worth. He reminded me that there was someone out there who would care more about me than about himself.

I have carried that bottle of wine around with me for five years now. It's moved a grand total of six times, each move marking a new chapter of my life. I've been saving it for a special occasion. I have had plenty of joyous occasions to celebrate in the last five years, but I wasn't quite ready.

Tonight, I will open that wine. I recognize that I'm at a point in my life where I've reached all of the goals that Robert set forth for me (whether he knew he was setting goals is completely beside the point). I am treated well, I did not settle, I have held on to myself, and I have learned that I care more about Doug that I do about me. Even better than that, I know Doug cares more about me than about himself.

Tonight, we celebrate two years of marriage, but we celebrate more than that. We celebrate happiness, oneness, and life and love and all of the things that we hoped for when we started out down this road. We celebrate the promise that we made to each other on that beach 2,000 miles away and we're glad about it. So, Gallo of Sonoma – tonight we part ways. Thanks for sitting on my shelf and reminding me what love is all about.

The day after

Yesterday was a really good birthday. I ate my way through it – starting with a pumpkin latte and finishing with a 4-pack of Chic-fil-a nuggets. My mother-in-law sent me jade earrings from China, my FOTW small group met me for dinner at Chipotle, and Doug's professor got sick. That may sound strange, but after believing all day that I was going to spend my birthday without seeing my hubby, hearing he had a sick professor was music to my ears.

We didn't do much, really, but it was nice to spend time with him. I still have no idea what he got me, but Saturday will be here soon enough. My work birthday was the best ever, Napoleon Dynamite style (see new pic!). We had Vote-for-Pedro stickers, inflatable frogs, and an ice cream cake from Cold Stone. That was a definite hit and we will do that again some day. In fact, there was a chunk of it left over that I'll be taking home this evening.

Let's see… what else? Mom and Dad gave me new running shoes, Mari bought me breakfast, and Lindsey brought me some chocolate-covered macadamia nuts fresh from Honolulu. I had well wishes from at least a dozen friends and family, and Doug topped off the evening with a foot rub. Twenty-seven welcomed me with open arms.

27

Well, another year older and not feeling much different than I did last night when I went to sleep. Except, of course, that I'm no longer expecting an alien to burst from my stomach and tap dance on my desk. See, I had Thai for lunch yesterday. That's always a mistake. It's SO tasty when I'm eating it but later... well, let's just say I won't be having Thai again any time soon.

Anyway, happy birthday to me. I'll be eating dinner with my Bible study pals and going to church tonight. It's weird to think that not so long ago, an alien did burst forth from my stomach and tap danced on the bar - not because of Thai food, but because of the combination of car bombs, breakfast shots, and four horsemen/three wisemen. Chipotle with a group of God loving adults is a far cry, although an easier cry to stomach, than a raucous group of college kids banging their fists on the bar. Times have changed, but I have not.

Here's to growing up, even if it is only a little bit.