A little reminder that today is very small (in the grand scheme of things). The rest of the perspective-inducing timeline can be found here.

David and I are not the types to roll in any real-life PDA or to spread our schmoopyness excessively across Facebook. We have a longstanding history of foregoing the usual candlelit romance of anniversaries and fancy birthday gifts in favor of gently acknowledging these important dates that celebrate our journey together (we rang in David’s birthday last year by candlelight gathered around a chocolate cake on the floor of a coworker’s house in a village in eastern Thailand, and our most memorable Valentine’s Day occurred alongside copious amounts of guacamole at our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant).

I used to lament the lack of romance that seemingly plagued our relationship, wondering if I was supposed to expect long bouts of hand-holding and weekly daffodil bouquets. And then I snapped out of my rom-com fueled delusions and realized that what we have is better (for us) than all of those ways we were “supposed” to show each other we care.

Today marks our first married anniversary (eastern hemisphere style). A year ago today, David and I decided we needed to commit to one another, just the two of us, spontaneously and simply and without any hullabaloo on an empty beach in Thailand. I’m hoping that we’ll celebrate with a mass amount of Thai food in each of our bellies, but I’m also using today to reflect on how happy I am to have David by my side and to acknowledge that hidden romance I didn’t always see.

So, here’s to:

- Still finding an endless array of topics to discuss (unless, of course, we’re enjoying a particularly delicious meal, in which case silence descends naturally as we savor those bites).

- David finding it endearing that I laugh heartily at my own jokes. Bonus points that sometimes he laughs at them, too.

- David taking on 100% of dishwashing duty every day, because he knows that washing dishes is my least favorite chore of all time ever invented in the history of all domesticity.

- The fact that we can drive and camp in a car together for weeks at a time without seriously maiming each other.

- David’s extraordinary skill set that makes him capable of turning mind-fluff into real images, taking apart (and usually putting back together) all things mechanical, understanding the little details even when the big picture isn’t obvious, and organizing his work space. I can’t do any of those things, but my skills + his skills = complementary strengths capable of running a business/house/family/life. Win. If only one of us could dance?

- David still thinking I’m pretty even when I haven’t been within sneezing distance of running water for weeks but am rocking the 99% humidity glow.

- Our first year filled with a slue of adventures, and a whole lot more to come…

I wanted to be an astronaut from the time I could talk until I discovered I had a way with words but not with math, and I still dream of space! The astronauts aboard the International Space Station had quite the view—what an incredible experience to view our entire planet from the outside. How eerie are those lightning storms?

ps
Did you know you can view the International Space Station approximately every 90 minutes as it makes its pass around Earth? It looks like an extra-bright, slow shooting star when it comes around.

I decided years ago that a short ‘do wouldn’t flatter me. I took pride in my long locks and the fact that anyone who got their hands on them commented on how healthy my hair was (probably a result of my not owning a blow dryer and generally not messing with it in any way).

But then I heard about Beautiful Lengths, an organization that makes wigs available for free to women fighting cancer. Friends and family undergoing chemotherapy treatment have often mentioned that losing their hair is a difficult step in an already grueling battle fraught with countless symptoms that can make them feel out of control and not like their usual selves. Donning a wig can be a small step towards making the process more tolerable, and wigs made of real human hair, while very expensive, are generally less itchy and more realistic than their synthetic counterparts.

My hair happens to grow at a freakishly fast pace, so I figured even an unflattering short haircut would regrow within a few months. Any inconvenience on my end would surely pale in comparison to helping make a wig available to a woman in need of some hair amidst a difficult fight for health and life.

There are many organizations to which you can donate hair, but Beautiful Lengths specifically caters to women and never makes a profit off their wigs. They put together 8-15 donated ponytails to make one wig, which is then available for free through a wig bank.

Off to the salon I went. In all, I chopped away 11 inches of hair in ponytail form to donate. A couple extra inches also left my head as my brilliant stylist Lynn cleaned up the cut.

And while I was prepared to rock a less than stellar look if it meant I could do something good with my hair, it turns out I love the way I look (and feel!) with short hair. 23.5 years of long hair was a good run, but I’m loving these new short locks.

If you’re interested in donating your hair, check out the Beautiful Lengths site. They do not accept hair that is more than 5% grey or that has been dyed/treated with chemicals. You’ll also need eight inches to donate!