The Photo-to-Canvas Era

Like most couples, Bridget and I love Groupon. Or LivingSocial. Or Gilt. Or whatever the hell new one just came out 40 seconds ago. These online coupons provide us with great deals to new restaurants, innovative (and sometimes stupid) products, and vacations. What's not to love, right?

Well, to Bridget's chagrin, these online coupons also love to offer photo-to-canvas deals. And for whatever reason, I absolutely love them.

What is a photo-to-canvas deal? It's simple, really. You pay a set amount (usually $40-$50), send in one of your favorite photos, and get a fantastic piece of wall art a couple weeks later. I think it's fantastic, anyway. And as you can see from this picture, I sort of went on a bender recently:

In order, from left to right, that's Cape Cod, California, and Maine. Also, there's two more in the bedroom.

So, to say I like these things is an understatement. On a related note, to say I don't know the first thing about design or interior decoration is an understatement. I know way, way less than the first thing. If it were up to me, we'd paint the walls Syracuse orange, hang up sports jerseys and pennants, and put collapsible basketball hoops on every door. (So many dunks!)

But it's not up to me. Mostly, it's up to her because I don't really care all that much -- so long as we don't have pink things everywhere. And to further get across the point that it's not up to me, I was recently given a stern talking to by Mrs. Briddon: "Okay, hun. That's enough. We're done with these canvas things."

The nerve, right? Right? And that's why I've taken this picture and written this post. Who knows how long the wall will look like it does above? (My guess is not all that long ...) But I'll always have a record of it -- and fond memories of the Photo-to-Canvas Era.

Advil and The Jagged Corners of Freeze Pop Wrappers

I'm reading back through our first week of blog posts (thanks to you for reading and commenting!) and I'm realizing a theme is developing. Bridget and I have a lot of fun, don't take ourselves too seriously, and enjoy disagreeing on various things. These things are all true. They are not, however, the full story.

We're also very much in love. ("Awww!" or "Vomit!" -- it's really up to you.)

But how did it happen? When did like turn into love? Have you thought about this question in your own life? When is the exact moment you fell in love with your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, or fiancé? For us, that's easy: Advil and the jagged corners of freeze pop wrappers.

First, the Advil or, in other words, why Mike fell in love with Bridget. For our first weekend getaway, Bridget and I went to gorgeous Boothbay Harbor, Maine. (Seriously, it's really nice.) We arrived in the seaside town, and prepared to eat lobster, drink a lot of wine, and take awkward pictures of ourselves (see example below).

As we made our way through the first bottle of vino before heading to dinner on that first night, I rummaged through my stuff to find my Advil. (I really hate hangovers.) To my dismay, I'd forgotten it at home. "Shoot. I forgot my Advil," I said. On cue, Bridget says, "Oh, I brought some. I knew you'd want it." Boom. In love. Right there.

Second, the jagged corners of freeze pop wrappers or, in other words, why Bridget fell in love with Mike. Bridget loves frozen treats. A lot. Like, so much. You might think you understand, but you really don't. She eats popsicles as if she's sitting on the sun and can identify ice cream flavors by touching them. So, of course, she loves freeze pops. (Who doesn't? Am I right?)

Early on in our dating lives at my old apartment in Salem, I offered Bridget a freeze pop. She obviously accepted. As I brought her a red one (her favorite flavor), I bit off the top of the wrapper. Then, before handing it to her, I bit off two pieces from either side so there was no chance she could cut her mouth on the plastic. She smiled from ear to ear. Boom. In love. Right there.

And two years later, we can both look back and immediately pinpoint those two moments that changed our lives forever. And for the record, I still bite the wrappers and she still brings the Advil. It really is the little things, isn't it?

So, what about you? Have you thought about it? What's the moment that turned like into love?