So this past Friday we celebrated a full year of marriage - which, when you're married to me, is probably more of a feat for my husband. As I've mentioned in the past, I'm pretty certain Shawn deserves some sort of medal, award, or gold statue of himself, dubbing him the Jedi Master of wedded bliss. People always told me that the first year of marriage was the most difficult - and I suppose I'm lucky enough to say that if that was the hardest it'll ever be, then we're in for a treat. You know, until we bring screaming, pooping, keepmeupallnight children into the world - I'm sure that's when things will get really fun.
The day before our wedding birthday, my husband in a somewhat panicked tone asked me if people get each other presents for anniversaries. If I was a llama, I probably would have looked something like this...
Unfortunately I'm not a llama, or the situation would have been way more amusing. Anyways, I responded with a, "Well, you don't have to..." while simultaneously thinking of all the ways I could punish him if he forgot to get me at least a flower, a back rub, or something. Luckily I didn't marry an idiot - and when I woke up in the morning was surprised to find that he had installed a new shower head in the shower while I was sleeping - which sounds super lame, and maybe even kind of awkward - but it was one that I had wanted. (Mostly because I'm not a huge fan of showering together, because one person is always freezing their ass off in the corner while the other one is rinsing.) Anyways, it was one these kind...
So now there's water for everyone and I don't whine like a 3 year old when I'm not under the water for more than 6 seconds. WIN.
While I was getting ready for work, he went and bought me McDonald's for breakfast - and even though I probably knock a couple days off my life every time I eat their food, it was delicious.
When I came home from work, I opened the door to find this handsome scene...
In't he cute?
We went and got massages (and I'm pretty sure my masseuse was trying to kill me. Or pierce my back with her fricking elbow.) And then went to a restaurant called Market Street Grill. A client from my previous job gave me a gift card for the restaurant last Christmas, so we figured we'd give it a go. Worst. Idea. Ever. My 30 dollar salmon was absolutely terrible. It was dry and tasted fishy. (No crap, it was a fish, right? But you know what I mean.) Not to mention the atmosphere felt like a dangerously crowded Sizzlers. I'm not a huge fan of sitting so close to the people next to me, that I could pick food off their plate. The best part of the meal were Shawn's french fries. Which I ate half of - because my baked potato tasted like ass. So basically the moral of that story is if you live in Utah, do not eat there. Unless you enjoy terrible, expensive food. Then go for it. And bring me back some french fries.
I wasn't sure what the plan was after that, because Shawn is all about the cryptic surprises. So we head out in the absolutely ungodly weather (Thanks, Utah.) to our destination. I kept my eyes closed most the time, not because I was tired, but because driving in super dark snow storms absolutely terrifies me to death. Terrifies me almost more than the thought of swimming in the Amazon River.
We finally got to where we were going - and it was the same resort we had stayed in the weekend after we got married. Preeeeeeesh. Brought back lots of good times. (Like the time we thought it would be a good idea to put bubble bath in the jetted tub... Snort.) Such a great surprise. I forgot to take pictures of the place when we got there, which is why the bed isn't made. I couldn't be bothered to remake it with all the thousands of decorative pillows it originally had. Plus, I hate making beds. So there.
At least we know it got used, eh?
Anyways, we had a good time. We drove back home (after Shawn cooled off after noticing that someone hocked a loogie on his car. You know, the car with a BYU decal on the back.) and went to The Original Pancake House because I was hankering for some fruit crepes. NOM NOM NOM. We waited 45 minutes to sit down, they're that good.
I bet you're thinking, well you suck Chels - you made such a fuss about not getting a present, and you didn't even get Shawn anything. Fear not, Internet. This picture should speak for itself.
Every day that he hasn't had an iPhone, he's died a little inside. So he finally got one - and he's as giddy as a school girl. And apparently it isn't in my husband's blood to go to the mall and not come out with a bra from Victoria's Secret. And I ended up with probably one of the most lacy, fru fru bras I've ever owned in my life.
Also good for lamp decorating.
Oh yeah. I just posted a picture of my sexy bra on my blog. New level. Anyways, maybe that's the kind of bra that normal women wear all the time - while I slum it around in my Wal Mart bras. But you know, whatever. Moving right along.
Some time last year, I got a super awesome deal for a stay at Anniversary Inn - and we actually reserved a room there a few months ago to stay the night after our actual anniversary. (Because the rooms available on our actual day were sucky.) So we got to stay at a another place the next night. SWEET. We stayed in the Romeo and Juliet sweet... And because I know you're dying to see...
Anyways - needless to say we had a lovely time. I'm actually semi-embarrassed to admit we haven't actually tried our wedding cake yet - because it's rather soggy and melty. Which scares me a little. But we will at some point, I'm sure. And if not, we definitely thought about it. And that's what counts, right?
It's been a wonderful year with Shawn - I couldn't have asked for anyone better to spend the rest of eternity with. He's a saint for dealing with all my crap. For real. And while I realize not all our anniversaries will be as extravagant as this particular one was, it doesn't even matter. As long as I have my wonderful husband to celebrate anniversaries with, life is good. And presents never really hurt either.