Seven Years...No Itch
Today marks seven years since Husband and I tied the knot at Ye Olde Wedding(e) Chapel in Lake Tahoe. We'd been together for three and, unlike most couples, it was the man that wanted to marry and the woman that had cold feet. But we were going up anyway and some friends were teasing that we were planning to come back married. We weren't...until they suggested it. So on Friday we decided to get married and on Sunday we did.
We had two guests, our witnesses and dear friends the Foreigner and the DJ. The Foreigner, who is a beautiful and stylish woman, will never forgive me for not telling her that she was going to be in our wedding. She was mortified to have worn jeans to the event. I tried to comfort her by the fact that the bride was wearing jeans, but the Foreigner remained appalled. She still does.
The chapel where we married was right off Highway 50, in the heart of South Lake Tahoe. Highly unromantic. We had our choice of indoor (which featured dark panelling and fake flowers and looked like a funeral parlor) or outside, with the traffic noise and the veritable zoo of plastic animals. We chose outside. Our one and only wedding picture shows us standing under the pine trees, a large plastic deer looking over our shoulders. It's priceless.
We then had the requisite post-wedding margaritas at a Mexican bar and went hiking. Our friends went home, we went to Safeway and bought an ugly sheet cake...because you gotta have cake at a wedding. Then we danced to "our" song ("A Kiss to Build a Dream On," the Louis Armstrong version). And we went to bed. Whereupon the night became a scene out of a Marx Brothers movie as both Husband and I spent what seemed like the entire night trying to get Ninja Fly From Hell to leave us alone. We threw pillows at it. We chased it with rolled up magazines. We tried to spay it with hair spray (hey, it was all we could find at the cabin) and eventually I think it just died of boredom.
Who says romance is dead?
Thanks for a great seven years, Husband. Here's to 70 more.