Gosh, Mike's post has got me all nostalgic... looking back at that engagement photo of us & such. I pulled out our external hard drive of vintage (3 megapixel!) photos from 2005 this morning. Please indulge me here for a second, but these are from a pre-blogging time, which is great because I was a really, really terrible photographer. It's funny to look at these photos though... We were so excited & eager. And so young (& notice Mike's baby face, the faded jeans, Mike's baggy pants & my bigger butt). I'm fairly certain that we had no idea what we were getting into. The majority of what was in our bank account was dumped into the deposit & first month's rent for our first apartment. Our first salaries were nothing to brag about. We were 22 & 24. Our parents must have been terrified.
We married April 30th in Spokane (a week after graduating from BYU), honeymooned in Cancun for a week, flew to Utah on a Sunday & picked up our things out of Mike's grandmother's garage, drove across the country to New Canaan with Mike's car & a UHaul trailor with all of our worldly belongings behind us (a story in & of itself), arrived on a Thursday, found our apartment in the city on a Friday with the help of my parents, had our reception in New Canaan on Saturday & moved into our apartment on Tuesday. We had dinner at Shake Shack that night, helpful since we had nothing in our apartment. We owned a (tiny) kitchen table & a hutch for our television that we had kindly been gifted. Other than that, our belongings were minimal. We ordered furniture, but that didn't arrive for several more weeks (!!), & until we tracked down an air mattress, we didn't even have a bed. Maybe two folding chairs? I don't remember.
Mike started his job shortly after, & I landed my first job at a consulting firm I had naively never heard of. I'm not quite sure why they hired me. I didn't own a suit prior to coming to New York (I thought a blazer would suffice), & had to use a map to get to my office which was a direct shot up in Midtown on the subway from Wall Street. The first time I got off the subway coming home by myself, I cried, called Mike, cried some more, & then finally figured out how to navigate my way back through the maze of the Financial District. A box of cereal cost $6. I didn't know where to buy anything. I missed my family. The girls at work were aggressive, & wore fancy designers I had never even heard of (although not unkind - one of the girls immediately bought me a guide book to New York - she clearly knew I was overwhelmed). I felt different. I didn't have any friends.
But - I had a brand new husband who was oh so much fun. And we adjusted, slowly. We finally made a few good friends (Robbins, when are you moving back??). We discovered a love for Battery Park, Adrienne's Pizza Bar & late night Chipotle when we couldn't figure out what to make for dinner. Walking past the stock exchange every single day became less of a novelty. I found the grocery store. I finally figured out how to get home without a map, & without tears.
I liked our first year, naivete & all, & I'll happily take the wrinkles & old(er) age as a trade off for the 5 years together, in this city. Three apartments. Two wards. Three jobs (me, although 4 if we're being technical). Probably a zillion restaurants. A few visitors (more, please). Lots of really wonderful friends. Hard experiences that forced us to grow. Doors that have opened (or closed) to bless our lives. New York really becoming home.
We're lucky, & we like it here.
