11 down, 70 to go

Today is my wedding anniversary.  11 years.  Sheesh, I've been married for a long time, considering I didn't
even want to get married when I was a teenager.  After we got engaged, we debated a Sept 1999 or March 2000 wedding date.  I like March, and I like even numbers.  The only thing that nags me about not going with the Sept 1999 wedding date is not being able to say that we got married in the last millennium and that our marriage has spanned 3 decades (90s, 00s, 10s).  

Eleven years.  We met in the summer of 1996, so that makes it close to 15 years of knowing each other.  Gosh, I'm old.  I've known my husband nearly half of my life.   

I still remember the moment we met.  I was in a friend's dorm room, and my soon-to-be husband was patrolling the dorm.  I even remember what I was wearing on that hot July night. I remember what he was wearing too--the police station-issued uniform that I would eventually don for 2 years as well.  According to my husband, he knew there was something about me immediately.  He intrigued me as well, but he had a girlfriend so I tried to put him out of my mind. 

Was it love at first sight?  No.  It was like at first sight though.  And we developed a friendship.  Once we started working together, things evolved...and 15 years later I can hear him snoring next to me over my blasting iPod.

When we got married, we said we had to stay married for at least 81 years.  70 more years of craziness and happiness to go.