As of today, Whitney and I have been married for four years, equalling the amount of time that I was in university. I tend to still use that as the metre-stick of life, because I'm still a little unused to the fact that I'm no longer there, but now that I've had more life out of it afterwards than I ever had in it, it might be time to let it go. I suppose I should also express the annual surprise that it's been this long already, and that even four years in America have not diminished the constant stream of "What's that?" and "I don't understand" and "What's your word for _____?" that I find myself saying daily.

This has been the year with the biggest life changes since the first after getting married, having moved to a different suburb of Boston and into a house that we're paying a mortgage on instead of paying a higher power to come and stick the ceiling back up every now and then - we've made two payments out of 360, and now indisputably own a space equivalent to the bit at the bottom of the stairs just inside the front door. This time next year, we might own a whole room. And at work, we moved offices again, and even though it was only down one floor this time, it has the advantage of privacy and a window to the outside world, from which I have just watched a lorry doing a particularly awkward reverse turn across two streets thirteen floors down.

I notice that on our first anniversary, I mentioned us going back home in the evening to play Final Fantasy XII. This evening, after going out to a fondue restaurant, we'll be on Final Fantasy XIII. How times change.