First they were housemates. Then they were more.

Join us for the next chapter of their love story

At the wedding of Megan Louise Lee and Daniel Eric Craig

On Saturday, the twenty-first of March, two-thousand and nine,

At The Springs, Longwood, Florida.

Food and merriment immediately following.

Traditional but quirky. That's us. And that was our wedding.

About 75 friends and family members showed up, dressed in their best, and congratulated the new Mr. and Mrs. by celebrating until 11 p.m. The DJ was a high school actor and an iPod, but we danced until we were kicked off the property. Afterward, the wedding party went bowling in wedding attire - our idea of a great wedding night.

We didn't start off like most couples do, with friendship, then dating, then marriage, then life together. Our beginning was … well, read for yourself.

Our life together started the day I graduated from college, when I moved in with my new roommates, Dan and Paul. Our humble abode was the run-down first floor of the house our landlord, Carlos, inherited from his wife's father when they moved to Chicago decades before.

By the time I moved in, the first floor of the two-flat on Winchester Avenue was desperately in need of a woman's touch. I wasn't much of a housekeeper, but became one when I noticed the toilet hadn't been cleaned since… ever. But the rent was low, and the roommates were nice, and I knew one of them (Dan) a bit from working with him at Borders Bookstore.

Paul was busy, so Dan and I bonded. I was a dog walker downtown, and he hated dogs. I liked pretty things and nice smells, and he was a smoker.

I fell for him immediately.

An opportunity soon arose for me to accompany Dan on a road trip to California, which I gladly accepted. We left on a Friday, drove to Iowa, and stopped for the night at a terrifying motel (the Crest Motel, I believe, but we call it the Bates Motel whenever we retell the story).

We drove on, stopping the next night in Denver, where we stayed at a (very classy) Howard Johnson Motel with a view of the back of another building, walked to a 24-hour diner for food and giggled until the wee hours of the morning.

The next day was Dan's birthday, so we stopped in Las Vegas. We were there for maybe 12 hours total, arriving at 10 p.m. and leaving by 10 a.m. the next day. We stayed at the Luxor, a pyramid-shaped hotel, where Dan had always wanted to stay. It was the most money we spent the entire trip.

We didn't get to see a show, and waited in line for the New York, New York rollercoaster, until we realized it was $15 per ride, per person and decided to forego the extra spending.

The lights were as amazing as I'd always been told. Men on the street corners tried to hand Dan cards with naked ladies, and I was offended by their assumption that he would need a lady with me walking right next to him. We stopped in the Bellagio for one drink each - the most expensive of our lives - and played $10 in the slot machines.

It was during that odd night, walking the nearly deserted strip of Vegas in the middle of the week, half-asleep and half-crazed from such a long car ride, that Dan finally fell for me.

Not that I'd been trying too hard or anything. (If I'd been any more obvious about my crush, I would have told him I loved him on our first outing together. Luckily, I held off for the right moment, several months later.)

And so, months after we started living together, weeks after I'd developed a crush, days after spending our first night in a scary hotel, and a couple thousand miles after we set off from Chicago - Dan finally became mine.

Unconventional. Perfect.

Contact reporter Megan Lee at (307) 266-0616 or megan.lee@trib.com. Read her DogBlog at tribtown.trib.com/MeganLee/blog.</>