My current emphasis: how to make good habits and break bad ones (really)

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Happiness: Taking Tourist Photos of My Own Romance.

On Saturday, I took the train up to New Haven for my college reunion. I went to Yale both for college and law school, so returning there is always a very intense experience. Mostly pleasant.

Even though I spent most of the day in undergrad nostalgia mode, I also took an hour to walk through the law school. (I also considered visiting the sole copy of J. M. Barrie’s The Boy Castaways of Black Lake Island, at its home in the Beinecke Library, but I ran out of time.)

A few weeks ago, I posted one of my all-time favorite posts: about how seeing the movie Twilight had reminded me of the time when my husband and I were falling in love, and had inspired me to do a better job with some of my resolutions.

Many of my resolutions are aimed at helping me keep happy memories vivid (e.g., Be a treasure house of happy memories) and also at helping me stay tender and romantic. As a way to keep both sets of resolutions, I decided to take photos of some of the most important sites in our falling-in-love story:
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We met because our carrels were back-to-back in the law library. This is the carrel I used.
Yalecarrels
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Here’s the staircase where we ran into each other that time.
Yalestairs
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This is the Anchor Bar. A big group went there one night, and on the way out, he casually asked if I wanted to have breakfast at the Copper Kitchen diner the next morning, before our Corporations class. I didn’t sleep all night.
Anchor
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Here’s the Copper Kitchen.
Copperkitchen
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Here’s the picnic table where he was sitting with a bunch of people when I came down from my dorm room to announce that I’d broken up with my boyfriend.
Yalebench
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Here’s the bench where we held hands for the first time.
Ylsbench
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I’m so glad I took these pictures. Everything changes, and one day the Copper Kitchen and the picnic bench and even that marble staircase will be gone, but now I have my record.

I’m reminded of a postcard I kept above my desk during college, of a work by Duane Michals: This photograph is my proof. The photograph shows a couple sitting cozily on a bed, and underneath is written, “This photograph is my proof. There was that afternoon when things were still good between us, and she embraced me. And we were so happy. It did happen. She did love me. Look, see for yourself!”

Ah, I have my photograph and my proof.

* The always interesting Marci Alboher sent me the link to a great post, Can Cooking Make You Happier? at