Spencer and I are both really social people. We're not necessarily extroverts (well, I'm not), but we really love our friends and value the time we get to spend with them.
When we met, I knew I'd met my match for throwing parties. Since we've know each other, this guy has planned no less than one dinner party a week. He will spend three days cooking, and I'll spend 15 minutes setting up - a process that is great fun for both of us. I think he might grow his garden every year just to be able to can enough salsa and hot sauce for all of our friends to receive a jar.
Deciding to move around together obviously meant that we would be uprooted from our community, and wouldn't necessarily find a new one right away. I know we both wondered how that would be. Like, what if we were our only company for the next year? That's not our nature, we both like variety of conversation.
After a few days of living here I started to joke around that every time I wanted to make an observation to a girl friend I would address Spencer as my friend Alexis. Like, "hey, Alexis - let's go to the pool today and get a pedicure!" That didn't last long. I'm going to the pool by myself on Saturday.
But here's the cool thing. The more time we spend here (yes, I know we've only been gone for two weeks), the more I really enjoy this guy. I know that it should be assumed that we really enjoy each other. I mean, we're engaged, we're traveling together, we share a car, a dog, and a pretty great set of future plans. When you see all that on paper it looks great. It doesn't tell the whole story though.
The whole story is that I really like this person, this human. I haven't liked him 100% every minute of my life. There have been a few minutes that were tough. A few times that I didn't want to take that left turn, or slow down, or not pack those extra 18 dresses I knew I would need. He's not always right. But I'm not either. And I sure do enjoy hanging out with him. I'm realizing that yeah, he would be my first choice for a team mate today, just like he would have been when we met two years ago. Unless we're talking about dancing. In that case, I choose Joe.
The other night we walked into the Irish bar, and at the exact moment we pushed open the door, the song "Time" from Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album queued up to the point where the bells start ringing. I know this sounds incredibly silly, but that was maybe one of the coolest things that has happened to me in...forever? If you are doubting how cool that would be, drink three margaritas, turn on that song, close your eyes and imagine walking through some old fashioned saloon doors into a bar where the only light comes from a green neon Harper's sign.
Also, there are parades and street festivals here almost every day! Two nights ago was our neighborhood block party where the band marched up and down the street, and people gathered around passing out food, chatting, and watching their kids run around. We're in a good spot.