76. The way you sign your name on cards we are sending, giving it your best flourish and then proudly handing it over to me, only for me to see that you basically just printed your name. "That's not a signature," I always say, and you always protest that it is. Holy heavens, for as long as I live this will amuse me. So totally cute.

77. Being the fearless leader on our many outdoor adventures with my brother.

78. Your preference - nay, passion - for gummy bears.

79. That you listen to Ani DiFranco.

80. The superman move you do with the haircut cape.

81. That when you invited some co-workers over for a chili night, you worked around my crazy schedule because you said it wouldn't be the same if I wasn't there.

82. That you had the patience and perseverance to defeat that one super-stubborn section of wallpaper by the stove. I had long given up on that shit.

83. The hilarious hatred you have for our "Fisher Price" mailbox.

84. Your take on my family, which is always amusing and, admittedly, true.

85. How excited you get about Scrubs coming on, and the gusto with which you sing along to the theme song.

86. That when I meet up with one of my faraway friends, you come along because you want to see her, too.

87. That Tina Fey is your celebrity crush. I think it says something good about you that instead of the stereotypical starlet sexpot, your favorite famous female is smart and brunette and wears glasses.

88. That you bought a gondolier tshirt in Venice and, moreover, that you don't really get the humor in that.

89. That whenever we see a couple taking pictures of each other at some scenic spot, you offer to take one of them together.

90. The conversations we have and how there are always things you want to show me or tell me about. I love being your best friend.

Six years ago today we danced at our wedding to "I've Got the World on a String." I hadn't listened to the song in awhile, so recently I popped into my car cassette player the Sappy and Danceable Jazz tape you made me in high school. (Which, can I just say? That you made me a mixed tape of jazz and not shitty pop songs is another thing I love about you.) As I listened to the lyrics, I thought, Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. What a world, what a life - I'm in love.

To explore the world and share this life with you is a delight, my love.

That Crate and Barrel is one of your favorite stores.

60. That you always push the cart in the grocery store. I hate doing that.

61. That you are a sucker for sunsets and waterfalls.

62. That you walked several blocks back to the parking deck to fetch my wallet from the car because the restaurant we were in wouldn't serve me alcohol without my ID and you know how much I love my wine.

63. That you ask my advice on things, and we consult each other on nearly every decision, big or small.

64. That you juice limes with a wrench.

65. The Steamroller.

66. Last week when you were still asleep when I left for work, and I came in to tell you I was leaving and you responded sweetly, and sleepily, "Love you."

67. That in the mornings you sometimes put your arms around me and gently rock me awake so I don't have to wake abruptly. (A technique so effective that I never even consciously remembered you doing this until you happened to mention it once recently.)

68. That you like looking out the window of an airplane.

69. That once, when you weren't able to think clearly for a few days, you were worried you'd had a stroke or something, because not having a completely sharp mind at all times is totally foreign to you. Hello and WELCOME TO MY WORLD. (See #71.)

70. That you always call me by the nickname you've given me. Love that. (It's rare for you to call me by my actual name, but perhaps because of that it's sorta a special thing and I'm always flooded with a warmth when you do.)

71. That you remember dates and numbers for everything. We'll both read an article, or hear a presentation, and later you'll be telling someone else about it and you'll say, "And then in 1902 the dam was built..." And I'll exclaim, "How on earth do you remember it was 1902?!" And you'll look at me like, "How do you NOT remember it was 1902?"

72. Your 'down from the ledge' talks. You calm and center me. And even the times when I tell you what I need to hear, it's hearing it from you - in your voice - that soothes me.

73. Your hugs, and how when I really need one you know and just fold me in, without a word.

74. Your interpretive dancing that makes me howl with laughter.

Tomorrow is our five-year wedding anniversary.

The past few months, we've noticed that we are frequently having the very same thoughts. One of us will say aloud what we're thinking and the other will say, "I was just thinking that SAME EXACT thing." The thoughts are always eerily specific, and I marvel that anyone else but me would be thinking that at all, much less at the same time.

We are such an old married couple, and I totally love that.

That you are the only person I know who actually twiddles his thumbs.

The methodical way you coil your laptop's power adapter cord before putting it in your laptop case, looping it several times and then pulling the end through and around the loops to secure the bundle. (In contrast, I just grab mine and stuff it into the case, willy-nilly.) This is the sort of minutia that, if you were to die, I would remember, and just seeing that carefully wrapped cord would surely cause me to start sobbing, because it is so you. As it is, you are beautifully alive and so it makes me smile. Because it is so you.

33. That when, in the morning rush, I forget my lunch, my laptop, or something else particularly important, you bring it by my office on your way to work. And you don't complain at all and you only make fun of me just a little.

34. That when you read magazines, you fold down the pages of all the articles you think I'd like to read.

35. That last week when I called you to say I was on my way home and then, when I was almost there, I decided to call you again to ask if you'd already gotten the mail, you answered the phone with, "I got the mail," even though I've only ever once before called to ask about the mail and we don't have caller ID.

36. That my brother looks up to you like a brother.

37. That certain things you do and say never fail to make me laugh, and you know this and so embrace every opportunity to do them.

38. That the pasta salad everyone was talking about at the picnic was the one you made.

39. That you laugh at my jokes even when no one else realizes I'm making one.

40. The dancing you do in the living room.

41. That you take stunning photos.

42. The look of focus you get when you're working on a sudoku or some other puzzle.

43. That you are widely regarded as Fucking Awesome at work.

44. How freaking cute it is that you play Flight Simulator, especially when you ask me to watch you land the plane.

45. That you do yoga with me.

46. The outdoor speakers you installed because you wanted us to have music when we're in the hot tub or eating on the deck.

47. That when I'm going to be driving somewhere I've never been before, you print out a Google map and talk me through the directions and then later when I pull out the map, I see that you even marked the route with a highlighter.

48. How you can hear a song once or maybe twice and then pick up a guitar or sit down at the piano and play it.

49. That you can never remember that TSP=teaspoon and TBSP=tablespoon, and so whenever you're following a recipe I'll hear you mutter the actual letters: "One TBSP."

50. That you're always eager to travel.

51. How you change certain lyrics of songs to be something funny and then when I'm alone in the car I catch myself singing those words instead of the actual ones which causes me to roll my eyes but also giggle at the thought of you.

52. Our thing in the grocery store parking lot wherein you pick me up in the car after I've put the cart away, even if the cart corral is right next to the car, even if you only move the car forward an inch to get me - you always pick me up.

53. How totally hot you are playing an upright bass.

54. The silly sleepy things you mumble when I come to bed after you.

55. Your humility.

56. That you admit to sometimes reading the "Drama in Real Life" stories in Reader's Digest.

57. The smell of your neck when I lean in to kiss it.

Happy anniversary, beautiful man. Best four years of my life.

That when I come into the kitchen in the morning and ask "Does this sweater make me look like a grandma?" or "Does this skirt make me look like a schoolmarm?" or "Does this jacket make me look like a man?" you either say "No" immediately or you pause for a moment and then say "Nnooo" rather unconvincingly which is your way of saying "Yes, it totally does" because you know that while I do want an honest answer, if you actually said "Yes, it totally does" that I would be completely offended even though I'm the one who asked the question in the first place.

That when I tried on for you what I'm planning to wear to an upcoming party, you compared the ensemble to "good web design" and I found that entirely amusing and flattering, in both cases because it was unmistakably the highest compliment you could have given.

That when I ask you what the hell I'm supposed to wear to [fill in event here] because I have NO CLOTHES, you suggest a specific shirt (off the top of your head, without even looking in the closet), the one article of clothing I didn't consider but which will be perfect. And that even more often, you come into the bedroom and put together an outfit for me that is so ridiculous that I am crying from laughing so hard at your complete female fashion ineptitude.

That when we are in a store and have split up to each shop for clothes and I come find you in the men's department and complain that the women's department has NOTHING WHATSOEVER that I would wear, you tell me I just don't know how to find the good stuff and then you come to the women's department with me and painstakingly look over Every Single Rack Of Clothes, pulling off the items you think I will like and scrunching your nose or rolling your eyes at the rest.

That when we are getting ready to go somewhere and I'm walking around in pants and a bra, you suggest, suggestively, that I wear exactly what I have on. And later when I've added a few layers despite your recommendation and I ask you, "Does this camisole look like a bra under this sheer shirt? Because it's actually a camisole but that doesn't really matter if people will think they are seeing my bra. Which they aren't, but what I need to know is does it look like it's my bra?" you assure me that it doesn't and then add, "But even if it did, that would be hot."