To my beloved husband on our 5th anniversary:

Hi schweetie, can you believe it? Five years we've been married, and, while I know I'm most likely cursing us for saying this, wasn't it supposed to be harder? I mean, we've had our moments like everyone else, but there isn't one of those moments that I would take back.

There are so many things about you that have surprised me, mainly your affable adaptability. I had no idea when I married you that you would be such an excellent travel companion, and that you would let me obsessively plan and not make fun of me. You have embraced the alterna-pet lifestyle with aplomb, feeding frozen mousecicles to the snakes, growing broccoli for the birds and turtle and picking out live superworms for the frogs. You understand, as not many people do, that giving way sometimes does not mean rolling over. I have to learn that better. I MIGHT let you get the PGR steering wheel for the XBox. Maybe.

I listen to my singer colleagues who have trouble with their significant others/spouses and the amount of time that singing takes away from the relationship. I don't say anything to them because it would sound like I was gloating, because you not only understand the need, but you share it, just in a different venue. We've never fought because I had to go to rehearsal again. It's the other way around; you make sure that I get where I need to be when my resolve has failed me. I wouldn't have gotten two of my upcoming gigs if you hadn't convinced me to go to the auditions.

The biggest lesson I've learned over the past five years is that security is not financial abundance, because I don't feel any differently about you with or without money. Security is, I know now, coming home to a place where you are, a place where I am always safe. If home is where one hangs ones hat, my home is where you hang your hat.

I love you, Mooky. Happy anniversary.