anniversary

Six years ago today, M and I took the Tri-Met bus #9 to the Multnomah County Courthouse in downtown Portland and got hitched by a female justice of the peace.

I wore a long, pale-yellow, embroidered summery dress. He was probably in some sort of business casual, although we have no photos from the day to prove otherwise.

Our witnesses were court appointed since we hadn't made any friends in town who would stand with us. It was just us, all alone out here in the wild west -we'd only been in town for a few weeks, fresh from our adventures in Spain and Morocco.

After a 10 minute ceremony, we took the #9 home by way of New Seasons and celebrated with some cheap red wine, a baguette and cheese. We ended the night with a video rental -Oliver Stone's JFK, if you can believe it.

The anti-climax of the entire event makes me smile to think of it now. And even then, it seemed extremely ironic. We loved the idea of our wedding day being much like an ordinary day. No special event would render us more or less devoted to one another then we were already. It was a piece of paper signifying our commitment in the legal realm, and also to the doubting religious folk in my family who questioned whether M was in for the long haul or not. We sent out postcards after the fact, announcing the date and time. They were hand-made, nonchalant and understated.

Today, 6 years on, we muddle on much as before we married -nonchalant in our affection and light in our demands on one another, easy-going and forgiving. It helps to marry your very best friend.