And just like the movies, we play out our last scene

My handsome man

(and our little man)

It was our anniversary last night, the big post-paper one (Why is the five year anniversary called "paper" anyway? Is it meant to say that your relationship is still fragile? Maybe the hope that both of you are still thin at this point?). For an anniversary present, I gave Nate the book "Radicals for Capitalism: A Freewheeling History of the Modern American Libertarian Movement" since he is my anarcho-capitalist. He gave me a ticket to a chocolate tasting from "La Maison du Chocolat", a very schwank chocolate place in the city. For Mormons who feel that, culturally, you are missing out on this whole wine-tasting phenomenon, this can be your thing. I've become a real chocolate snob in my ripening age (milk chocolate is for little children, unless accompanied by peanuts and nougat), and Nate has been bringing me home chocolate tidbits from this place for a few special occasions, so, ooooooooh, I can't wait.

We left the kids with Cat and her husband Jason (Bless you, friends, bless you), then took off for our new favorite sushi joint in Princeton--Soonja's--where we stuffed ourselves. It takes a lot to get stuffed full of sushi, but we did our best. And then, then, then, la finale, the ultimate, the one thing we had been waiting to spend these precious, fleeting moments of alone time on...

We saw Spiderman 3 in the movie theatre.

I love chocolate. I love sushi. I love movies. I love stadium seating. I love whispering snarky comments in Nate's ear at crucial, over-the-top moments. Spiderman 3 had a lot of these moments, just begging for a comment or two, which made it even better. When Nate and I were dating and first married, we hit the movie theatre at least twice a month. When we lived in Salt Lake on Yale Ave., we went to the Tower Theatre, an indie spot, all the time (and ate sushi at the tiny dive across from it. Three white guys rolling sushi while head-banging to heavy metal. The sushi was good for all that, too). You would think living in one of the greatest movie capitals of all time, I would have been at the movies pretty much all the time, but I've hardly seen any movies in NYC. Why? Children. Hiring babysitters is prohibitively expensive when you're students and begging off friends means YOU owe THEM babysitting next time, an obligation to be carefully weighed against the current crop of showings. Instead, Nate and I spent our precious few moments of child-free time going to book signings at the Union Square Barnes and Noble. We saw some greats (at least to us): William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, Terry Pratchett, Orson Scott Card, etc. etc., so no real regrets. Still, I wish we wouldn't have had to choose between the writers and the reels. As Violet sang in the movie (based on the book), "I want the world. I want the whole world!"

Maybe some day in our old age, Nate and I will be eschewing the popcorn munching for something classier (we did get to see Alfred Molina during his Broadway run in "Fiddler on the Roof", which was great, but we wouldn't have thought to go if Nate's parents hadn't been in town and I don't know if I would have cared so much if he hadn't played Doc Ock in Spiderman 2), like actual theatre, or art gallery openings, or some such. I doubt it and sincerely hope not. I heard the theme of Star Wars while in my mother's womb and it's been in my blood since. It's a good date if I get to whisper in Nate's ear, "Hold off dying, Harry, while I accept a hasty, wrap-up apology from the Sandman here." (see Spiderman 3, really)

We went home, thanked our friends profusely, and went to bed. Happy Anniversary indeed.