On this date five years ago he asked me to marry him. It was a very public proposal, an entirely unexpected one, and one that involved a conspiracy of several seemingly reputable individuals. In the middle of a museum, with high school tour groups surrounding us, I watched him get down on one knee to invite me on this journey of a thousand miles that started with a single "yes".

I had been living with my cat in a one bedroom apartment in the middle of the city, working my keister off at a job that gave me neverending jet lag; I was dating this man for over a year and thinking this was the happiest I had been in a very very long time. I could not have imagined the bewildered awe I would feel today, owning a several-bedroom house in suburbia with a yard bigger than my old downtown apartment, forgetting the feel of a desk beneath my hands and the ubiquitous sound of telephones ringing, and looking down at the pale creature peacefully drinking from my breast, calling her my daughter.

In the words of John Lennon (Peace Be Upon Him), "Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." Just because I never expected to be here doesn't mean I'm not glad I made the trip.