We’re using the screening as an excuse to spend a couple of days wandering around one of our favorite cities and getting some creative inspiration. We’re going to see a play that’s had rave reviews Venus in Fur, finally explore The High Line and dine at a great Italian restaurant in Soho to start getting in the mood for our next big trip (to Italy in a couple of weeks!).

Tom’s first ever visit to New York City was with me and we’ve made a lot of fun memories there. You can be sure we’ll be snapping away during our trip (time to dust off the poor lomos and we’ve got a new 70-200 lens to try out) but in the meantime, here are a few of our favorites from New York trips of yesterday…

First walk over The Brooklyn Bridge, summer 2009

Taking the Ikea boat from Manhattan... do they still have this?

Tom rocking his blue Reebox, New Year's 2010 in NYC

Our next trip to NYC was to interview Diego and Yulia for The Long Haul Project

Last time we were in New York was to catch up with the lovely Beth & Ben. It was February 2011 and FREEZING! Can' wait to see these two in London in a couple of weeks!!!

But you can divide up all the accents into two basic groups – short As and long As.

Taco

People in the South of England use long As. Think of Hugh Grant, Hugh Laurie, Hugh Bonneville from Downtown Abbey. Pretty much anyone called Hugh. They all elongate their As in words like castle, grass and bath. It’s car-sul, grarse, barth.

Everyone else – including northern monkeys like me – shortens those same As. Cass-ul. Grass. Bath.

But one thing we all agree on is that certain words always have a short A.

Pasta.

Taco.

That’s right, you heard me. Pasta. Taco. Not Pahhhsta. Not Tahhhhhco.

On a recent episode of The Office, Catherine Tate’s character used this pronunciation of the word ‘taco’ and it got me thinking about how well I’ve assimilated to life in the US.

Yes, this is how we eat them in England

I know better than to say taco instead of tahhco or t-you-na instead of toona when ordering fish – mainly because Melissa takes the piss out of me when I get it wrong. Even though she still talks about giving the apartment a quick ‘hoover’.

I always think couples who emigrate somewhere together, from the same home country, are at a disadvantage. How do they integrate without someone to gently let them know that a flashlight and a torch are different things here?

I’m glad that – as well as being a genuine American citizen – I’m also a fully functioning (and speaking) member of American society, and for that I have to thank the Americanness of my wife.

Regular readers will know that Tom and I met in London, a city straining at the seams with 10 million people (oh, the Olympics are going to be fun!). I lived in a mouse-infested flat perched above Goodge Street Tube station. But real estate agents say “location, location, location” and that’s what this place had. It was in the middle of the city. So what if the rusting deathtrap of an elevator never worked and no amount of cleaning could eradicate years of caked-on dirt from the kitchen? It was a place to sleep for a few hours before going out for another adventure.

Tom and I spent years living in cramped and crumbling London apartments so when we decided to move to the USA we knew one thing for sure- we wanted to buy the biggest house possible. So we bought a house in the ‘burbs and I will never forget how jubilant we were to move our box-fresh belongings inside. We planned to paint and decorate and garden and barbecue and drive to Target on the weekends to buy more stuff.

Which is exactly what we did, and the novelty of it lasted for a while. I’m not sure when I first became aware that I wasn’t loving this big house with its yard and driveway. Maybe it was the first time we had to shovel snow, or when I tried my hand at gardening and discovered the green thumb must have skipped a generation. Maybe it was when we realized how bored we were of the 3 or 4 nearby restaurants or when I found myself wandering idly around Target realizing there was nothing left to buy. However it happened, Tom and I accepted that our great suburban experiment had failed. The house we’d bought was beautiful, the city we lived in adorable. But none of it was for us.

Where else but the city can you find such delightful art installations outside your door in the morning?

So we fled to the Leather District, the citiest neighborhood we could find in Boston. It’s a small block of converted lofts couched between Downtown Crossing, the Financial District and Chinatown. It’s in the heart of  what used to be called the “Combat Zone,” so-called for its concentration of strip clubs, head shops and ladies of the night. It’s been cleaned up in recent years but still maintains an air of scuzziness. Our neighborhood is surrounded by nightclubs and at 2 AM on weekends the street is overtaken by howling drunks who always have an argument below our window. There’s nowhere to park. We’re pretty sure the “Thai Massage Parlor” across the street is offering customers much more than a massage.

We love it. We love the grittiness and the noise (well, OK, our upstairs neighbor has tried our patience a few times); we love being able to walk everywhere; we love that Boston Common can substitute as a backyard (with a lawn we don’t have to mow); we love the tight-knit community of creative, interesting, slightly kooky people we’ve met here; we even love that some of our local homeless guys know us so well that they’ve nicknamed our dog (Pisser, for the record).

It took moving to the suburbs to discover that we are a deeply committed city couple, and that we’re willing to accept all the stresses and strains that go along with it as long as it means we never, ever have to buy mulch. Our marriage became much happier as a result and I feel very lucky that we both felt the same way about urban living.

So what kind of couple are you- city, country or suburb? And how do you handle it if you can’t agree?

Since last April we haven’t shot a thing for The Long Haul Project because we’ve been so wrapped up in launching and running Long Haul Films, and so (aside from our holiday film last December) we’ve managed to stay firmly behind the camera – much to my delight and Melissa’s chagrin.

That is, until last month, when – in return for the client testimonial videos we produced for her, the indescribably awesome (not to mention English) Leah Haydock did an anniversary photo shoot for us. She spent a (unseasonably hot) day following us around, asking about how we met, how we got engaged, what our wedding was like – and generally making us feel very loved up and good about ourselves.

Having worked with Leah on a wedding and having seen lots of her work through the process of putting together her video pieces, we knew that the photos would be incredible. But it’s a whole other level when the photos are of you and the love of your life. It’s – to use a well worn phrase – breathtaking. And we couldn’t be happier to be able to mark our 5th wedding anniversary and the 8th anniversary of being together with a set of photos that will serve as a reminder of this wonderful time in our lives and our marriage.

Here are a few of the highlights.

This captures pup's ridiculous personality so incredibly well.

Us in the Diner. Again.

Sol's vacation tan making us (me) look pasty

An official I Break For Squirrels band practice

To the left... Melissa's dainty feet. To the right... the infamous Dowler toes

We really could be hair models

Getting cozy after the twelfth costume change of the day

A late night moment surrounded by amazing bokeh

Many thanks to Leah for such an incredible day and amazing set of pictures (you can see more on her blog). If you’re looking for a wedding photographer, you will be hard pressed to find anyone as professional, talented, organized, personable and downright likeable as her – she comes highly recommended by us!

Other times, people try to convince me of the merits of motherhood or even tell me what a good Mother I would make. I’m not sure what criteria this is based on, except for the fact that I’m female and vaguely nice. But perhaps the strangest argument I’ve heard in favor of motherhood is from the people who ask “If you don’t have kids, who will take care of you when you’re old?”  This seems like the most selfish possible reason to become a mother.

If I did have children, I’d want them to have rich lives full of career success, love, adventure, travel. All the wonderful things I’ve enjoyed. You know what I wouldn’t want for them? To spend their mid-life changing my adult diapers. Would I expect them to quit their jobs? Leave their partners? Maybe move away from a place they loved?

You're not required to have a hair helmet and shoulder pads to be accepted to Golden Girls: 2048. But it helps

Not only is this idea selfish, it’s pretty impractical. Before you turn your kids into personal caretakers, you have to raise them from infancy. That’s thousands of hours of cleaning up vomit, helping with homework, pick-ups from soccer practice, nursing when they’re sick (and they’re always sick). That’s not taking into account the cost. I read that it costs the average American family $226,920 to raise a child to the age of 18. So I guess that’s before you add in college expenses, which today are about $119,000 for a four-year private education and are projected to be more than $340,000 in 18 years time. So we’re talking a more than $500,000 investment.

I bet if you saved that money, you could hire some pretty amazing helpers to get you through your golden years.

But of course, I don’t relish the idea of spending my retirement with only a paid nurse to keep me company. Which is why I’m in the process of recruiting people for a little project I like to call ” Golden Girls: 2048″. I have a number of friends who don’t plan to have kids, and they’re all invited to join me.

We’ll spend the money we didn’t have to spend on college tuition buying a nice villa somewhere warm. We’ll all have our own wing, but share common space where we can hang around together and make wisecracks like Sophia and Blanche. We’ll keep each other company, finally get around to learning how to do stuff like needlepoint and maybe even start organic farming. We’ll remind each other to take our meds and celebrate holidays together (when we feel like it). Sounds like an amazing retirement to me, no begrudging visits from the grandchildren required.

Oh, and guys can apply too. As long as they’re willing to dress up like Dorothy.

Currently accepting applications via the comments below.

We encountered unexpected sound sync problems at the Saturday screening that were pretty much my nightmare come to earth-shattering life. But we also had the triumph of it all going perfectly at the second screening, which felt richer and more valuable because of the initial hiccup. I was reminded (yet again) how the most meaningful lessons and important growth opportunities arise from the mistakes we make, the hardships we  endure. For a long time in my life I hid behind the heavy veil of perfectionism; not wanting to risk trying anything new for fear I might look foolish, might miss a step, appear weak or fallible.

I’m sure anyone who has been following my relentless promotion of this movie would be surprised (disbelieving?) to know how vulnerable I am about it, how exposed I feel to put it out there in front of an audience. So many days, I’ve had to push back that veil of perfectionism and accept that I’m going to do something new and unfamiliar, I’m going to make mistakes, I’m going to put myself out there and hope that I don’t do anything too dumb, hope that nobody points and laughs, hope that nobody demands to know what the heck I think I’m doing there, hope that I can be brave enough and not scurry behind the veil, not retreat to the safety of a life without risk.

All I’ve wanted since we finished the film was to have it premiere at IFF Boston. It was a dream come true and an experience I’ll never forget. What I’m discovering lately is that dreams come true are more complex than I realized. Dreams come true still have bad days and dark moods and unimaginable struggles. Dreams come true have lofty, far-reaching highs when you soar above the ground like a bird. Dreams come true also have lows when you feel your legs turn to lead and you think that everything you’ve ever done and said is a total pile of crap.

Dreams come true are actually much harder than not dreaming at all. But still, I’m so glad for them.

Thanks to everyone who came out to support the movie at IFF Boston and sent messages of love and support. I can’t tell you how much you’ve meant to me and my dreams.

Not only will we see our film on the screen this weekend, we’ll be surrounded by friends, family and supporters as well as the South Street Diner owner Sol Sidell and his wife Susan. Sol opened up his business and his home to our cameras and has been so supportive and so generous through this whole process. Not only did we make a film, we made great friends in Sol and Susan and many others who we’ve met while making this movie.

It’s been an incredible week so far as we’ve built up to the festival. We had the pleasure of being interviewed with Sol on WBUR (listen to it here), we were featured as the top local pick for IFF Boston on the Mass vacation website and then there was the opening night of IFF. Walking into the filmmaker’s lounge to pick up our passes; seeing our poster hanging in the window of the theatre; sitting in the audience being utterly inspired by the passion and commitment of the volunteers who put IFF together; even jumping out of our seats when we saw the promo for OUR FILM come up on the screen.

It’s hard to imagine feeling any happier or more excited, but I’m pretty sure we’re going to achieve it on Saturday. We really hope you can come down to check out the film. A few tickets are still available here. In the meantime, a few snaps from our week:

About to head in to our interview with WBUR's Meghna Chakrabarti (who also did the opening night Q&A with Ira Glass!)

Tom in the studio at WBUR

Our movie poster!

I have been called many things and can say that filmmaker is definitely my favorite

Come to our party at The Rosebud Diner after the Saturday screening and you too could bag a SSD tattoo

Wish us luck. We’re off to savor every moment of these next few days!

The one who’s obsessed with their child.

Their Facebook profile picture isn’t them, it’s their child. They post updates about their child’s eating habits, milestone achievements, bowel movements. Every Instagram picture is of the kid doing something pretty unspectacular. Every tweet is about how “we” successfully walked two steps today or figured out how to use an iPad.

I’m not complaining. I don’t have to engage with these people on social media. I can hide them from my feed. I can unfollow or defriend.

And I’m not hating either. I’m sure I simply have no idea how much having kids takes over your life and becomes the best thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of the universe.

And I’m not criticizing because I realized we do exactly the same thing – only we talk about marriage rather than our adorable kid.

It hit me when I was reading something about marriage in the New York Times this weekend: we’re pretty much drawn, like moths to a flame, to movies or books or newspaper articles about marriage, and then insist on spouting off about whether we agree or disagree with whatever piece of marriage-related media it is that’s caught our eye.

And while that’s probably okay on a blog that is specifically about marriage, I’m sure it bleeds through into our other social media presences, and I’m sure many of our friends are sick of hearing about it, even if they would never say anything to our faces.

So, even if we don’t exactly curb our obsession with marriage, at least let it be known that we’re aware of it, and we’ll do our best not to go on about it too much.

Speaking of which, one of the things keeping us busy last weekend was making a personal documentary film with Jaime and Brendan, a couple whose wedding we’ll be shooting in July on Cape Cod. The film we’re making is going to be shown at their wedding and while I can’t reveal much more about it (top secret!), I will say that our cameras caught Jaime and Brendan crossing the finish line at the Boston Marathon. It was quite a day for a 26.2 mile run, with temperatures soaring to 87 degrees. In Boston. In April. What???

Jaime and Brendan have run a lot of marathons and took it in their stride. It was so much fun to spend time with them last weekend and get to know them (and get them used to our cameras) before the wedding. We can’t wait for their big day in July. In the meantime, here are a few snapshots of Marathon Monday….

That’s Jaime and Brendan with their medals after finishing the marathon. These guys really made us want to spend more time on the treadmill… Congratulations to them and all of the other runners who completed this year’s Boston Marathon!

One of the unhappy truths about human nature is that it’s hard for us to appreciate what we have, until we lose it. When we lose something like electricity or running water, or worse, our health, then it’s clear how mightily such things contribute to happiness and comfort.

In college, a friend told me about the “Lost Wallet Syndrome.” “No matter what’s happening in your life,” he explained, “if you lose your wallet, you think, ‘How happy I would be if I would only find my wallet.’ But then, if you find it, you’re happy for about two minutes, and then you’re right back where you started.”

A few weeks ago, Tom and I went through a very stressful situation that involved our computer and missing data. We thought we might have lost some pretty significant personal and professional projects. Things that meant a lot to us. We had to wait several days before we knew how the situation would turn out and, boy, we were experiencing Lost Wallet Syndrome! Every morning, we made a barter with the Universe…. If we got the data back and everything turned out ok, we would be happy and grateful forever and always be in good moods and never complain about anything and never, ever take anything for granted again.

Well, the Universe kept up its side of the deal. A few days and a whole lot of money later, the problem was solved. I’m not sure we’ve totally kept up our side of the bargain and refrained from any form of complaining.  It’s amazing how easy it is to slip back into the habit of taking things for granted. Tom and I have love, good health, great friends and family, success, personal and professional fulfillment. All of those things are tenuous, any of them could be gone tomorrow. That’s why we’re really committed to keeping the connection to the feeling of Lost Wallet Syndrome; that ability to appreciate how good your life is that you usually experience when something crappy happens.

We introduced a new policy to help us with this goal. Every morning, we take the dog for a walk together (rather than our old policy of trading off on the walk… ok and by “trading off”, I mean Tom taking him). At some point during the walk, one of us will ask the other: What are you grateful for today?  We each ask and answer the question and it starts the day off on such a good note, with both of us focusing on what we feel good about in our lives. Sometimes it’s a big, exciting thing (we had about 10 days in a row of saying “I’m grateful to be an Official Selection of IFF Boston“) but other times it’s simple things like being grateful the sun is shining.

We would highly recommend that every married couple starts their day with a gratitude chat. And you don’t need a dog to do it. Ask each other the question while brushing your teeth (spit before answering); over coffee and toast; or during the drive to work. Guaranteed you’ll feel more appreciative of the good stuff you normally take for granted. No lost wallet required.

Any other tips for how to slow down and appreciate the good things in life and in your marriage? All advice welcome!