Save the Date

"I think we both make people not like us." (Actual text from my roommate, Kenny Kelleher, last Friday at 1:05am.)

"Oh yeah? No shit." (Actual text back from me, last Friday at 1:05 am.)

In the almost 6 years of living together, neither of us has had a boyfriend. Well, I've come close. And by close, I mean a couple of seemingly promising long-distance relationships. (So actually, not close.)

People can never believe that either of us are single. I can't say that I blame them. I mean, we're pretty awesome. So awesome that I kind of think we THINK we're more awesome than we actually are, proving Kenny's theory that, in fact, "We both make people not like us." The point is, if we both had a dollar for every time people asked us why either of us are single, we could live somewhere where we aren't constantly woken up by leaf blowers, trash trucks, construction, ambulances, motorcycles, saxophones, opera, and car radios.

December of 2012 will be 7 years of living together. Thus, we will be "Common Law Married." Time flies when you're scaring the shit out of each other in your apartment. It's only right that we have a ceremony to celebrate our domestic bliss. And although I'm pretty sure he'd like to be registered at either 7-11 or Taco Bell, logic tells me we should definitely register for a nice set of plates for all the cooking we never do. We are grown adults who eat our take-out and fast food off of mismatched plates with cartoon characters on them. I'm not proud.

Also, if anyone has a connection to Katy Perry or Beyonce and could get them to perform at our ceremony, that would be awesome.