Quarter Century

As near as either of us can figure, we moved in together on May 1, 1979, after a whirlwind courtship. (The whirlwind won.) Neither of us expected the relationship to last -- I still have dozens of record albums and thousands of books marked with my name. Steve had asked me to do this before we combined households so that "when we split up" it would be easier to sort out which belonged to who -- and neither of us had been looking for a relationship at all. I had determined early that life was complicated enough without adding in extra people, and Steve was in the midst of a divorce.

And so here we are a quarter century later, slightly bemused by it all, and wouldn't you know I forgot to write my name on the cats.
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We watched Big Fish Friday night and I had a very good time with it. Must watch again, at least, and it may be a keeper. Master and Commander was on the playbill last night. I was engrossed and I'm glad we've seen it, but I have no desire to see it again, or to see more.

Up tonight, Cowboy Bebop.

But, first, to work.