Five

July and August are really important months to me. They are the months that I met and fell in love with my husband. Five days ago, July 10, was the five year anniversary of the day I met my husband, or as I like to refer to it: the day I just wanted him to shut the fuck up and stop talking to me so I could listen to my ipod and read my People magazine. Coincidentally, July 10 is also the anniversary of the day I found out I was knocked up.
Today marks another five year anniversary: five years of blogging for me. I think only two or three people know that I blogged long before this. I know I haven't blogged continually for five years, but it was five years ago today that I first ventured onto the bloggy scene. I did it because my friend Kara had visited me and shown me her blog. I loved her blog, and at the time I was certain that I was being called to write, so I signed up myself. It's odd-kind of unsettling-to go back and look at what I wrote as a hopeful almost 23 year old graduate student living in the Bronx. I was so certain then.