I met my now-husband Matt in 2008 at an Oscar-night watch party hosted by a mutual friend, but it wasn't until a month later that we went on our first date. We met at the Museum of Natural History, where I will never live down the moment I grabbed a paper map and asked where the "You Are Here" sign was (I was nervous, I swear!) and where Matt will never live down that he wouldn't take me to the Butterfly Conservatory because it "costs extra." Then, Matt — in what seemed like an odd and inappropriate gesture at the time — took me to Filene's Basement to buy pillows. Turns out, they were for the International Pillow Fight Day in Union Square. (It still holds the record for the world's largest flash mob to date, with 5,000 New Yorkers pummeling one another with feather downs.) It was a pretty good day. We got married four years later in the Armenian church where I grew up. It's perhaps fated that the traditional Armenian wedding blessing is, "May you grow old on one pillow."