A Not-So-Random Thought of the Day - March 25th, 2026

Lots of random thoughts to share today, but one that is not, so let's start with that:

My wife and I have been together for seven years, and today is our anniversary. We met in a fantastic Mexican restaurant. My wife is a fan of all things Canadian, and I had decided to show up in more or less a Canadian tuxedo of denim. I was obsessed with exploring every inch of the mountains I could get my boots on after moving up from South Florida just six months prior. My wife was a walking confluence of all things nerd, and damn proud of it. Board games, Dungeons and Dragons, graphic novels, sci-fi movies; if it was nerdy, she was ready to rattle off five questions about it in rapid fire. Her smiles flashed like diamonds. Her laughs were infectious; whether it was her barely constrained, cartoonishly mischievous high-pitched giggles that escaped around the hand covering them or the full-bellied roars that shook the restaurant in reaction to some corny joke I'd told.

We often tell people we thought we were very different people on our first date, and that it wasn't love at first sight, but we went on another date because we liked what we saw in one another. While that's certainly one, very normal, well-adjusted, human way to put it, I think I'd like to expound on that.

I think the gravitational pull of every speck of stardust that guided my steps to that moment where I sat down and shared a plate of tacos with my wife for the first time was the universe putting me exactly where I needed to be.

I grew up a city kid with no experience living in the country. The universe felt it appropriate that the best law school to accept my application was in the middle of the country. As I was looking for someone to take my city apartment lease over, it introduced me to someone who had a friend going to the same law school. I met up with that person, who quickly became one of my best friends. She adopted a dog in her first year of law school, and I would steal her dog for walks to clear my library-fried brain.

Wanting that, I volunteered at a shelter all summer, had four dogs picked out, any one of which would've been fine. But the universe decided they were to guide other people through life, and they were all adopted the weekend before I was ready. But as soon as I found out, a call came in over the radio that the neighboring county had taken in over 60 animals in a hoarding rescue, and were sending the overflow to us. The first dog out of the truck was covered in dirt but something deep and ancient told me to get that dog. As he patiently allowed me to give him a bath, the dirt yielded to the water and underneath was a stunningly beautiful goofball Australian Cattle Dog mix named Dingo.

Being a broke law student working three jobs over the summer, I didn't have money to go out to the bars every weekend. But Dingo seemed to like going for walks, and we lived on the edge of the Hoosier National Forest in Indiana. So we started going on longer walks. Then overnights. Then through-hikes across the state. I unquestioningly threw myself into this new state of wanderlust; running out of my last classes for the week to grab Dingo and head to the woods in search of adventure. After a series of soul-crushing years in South Florida, realizing that law school had transformed me from a born-and-raised city kid to a country boy, I made the move to the mountains and rivers of East Tennessee, following the path the universe, through Dingo, laid before me.

"So, it's obvious, even from before our first date, that we're two very different people. I have to ask: Why did you agree to go on a date with me?" I asked my wife over a second-date brunch of chicken, waffles, and bottomless mimosas.

"Well, we are different, but everybody nerds in their own way. And you are very attractive, but honestly? I really liked your dog. And dogs know humans better than humans do."

W, from the door of our home, down the road, through forests, up mountains, across waters, to the moon, over the vastness of space and time, to the edge of the universe and back again, I love you more than anything, and always will.