An Ineffable Decade

Ten years ago this week, I walked into my first class as a grad student at UNC and met my husband.

Of course, he wasn't my husband at the time. He was my professor.

Okay, I was a master's student and he was a doctoral student, so technically we were also classmates. But at that first moment, he was still my professor -- and I knew immediately that there was something different about him.

When he handed out our "welcome to class" forms to fill out, he asked all the usual stuff (name, email, website, etc), with some additional questions thrown in. I spent a lot of time on that form -- way more than should have been necessary. It seemed suddenly very important to make a good first impression. The two questions I remember focusing on most were:

1. What is one word that describes you?
2. Is there anything else I should know about you?

My answers were:

1. Ineffable.
2. I drive a convertible. 

The next day, we were flirting in the halls of the journalism school. Two weeks after that, I switched into a different section of the class so that we could start (officially) dating. One year later, we were married.

Ten years later, I'm still amazed at how it all happened. I might not be ineffable anymore, but I'm still driving a convertible and still trying to impress him. 

The good news? It seems to be working.

Photo from UNC.