I'm a gal who loves a good party, but for some reason prefer anniversaries to be pretty low-key affairs. I think this boggles the mind of my dear husband, since I insist on celebrating every holiday from Saint Patricks Day to Hanukkah...and I'm not Jewish. We also celebrate made-up holidays- or "anything-I-feel-like-celebrating-if-I-need-to-spice-things-up-or-am-particularly-bored-days." It is normal for Brett to come thorough the door to find our walls covered in random decorations, cheap champagne chilling, and a chocolate in the shape of a fish. Or a note from me telling him to meet me out for Thai food for "Thai Day"where I gift him with a few awesome children's books. There is no rhyme or reason to these celebrations, which makes it even more fun.
So, today is our 2 year Anniversary. And we will cook dinner at home, drink a good bottle of wine, and exchange simple gifts. And then probably assemble some furniture we bought at Ikea yesterday. You know, if we are feeling particularly crazy.
This sounds perfect to me, especially because I informed him that we are celebrating the holiday of "Anniversary-Dessert-Edition" in a week where we exchange the "cotton" 2 year gift and eat cake. Mainly because it is too hot to eat cake tonight, and I need to eat cake on a holiday. Obviously.
It says a lot about Brett that he didn't even bat an eye at my request. Or, demand.
Anyway, this year has been the hardest one we have had in our 6 year run together. We're basically newlyweds at this point- learning to live with each other and accept one another. We sometimes get shy, we sometimes get ridiculously angry, but we always laugh and he is my best friend. I know that phrase in married relationships is often overused, but NO REALLY GUYS, HE IS. He is seriously the only person that has put up with me on a semi-consistant basis for 6. Years. He takes a lot of crap, he sticks up for me when I'm blatantly wrong, and he conjures up a healthy interest in my celebrity obsession, my rants about the very common abuse of the arts, and my disdain for scrambled eggs. When people tipsily grip his arm at cocktail parties and say " OH MY GOD...your wife is so funnnnnnny!!!!!" He just nods politely, sips his drink and probably thinks, "Cool. Glad you think that. Spend a weekend listening to her tell that same story 949874 times and then we'll talk. Ok buddy?"
No. He wouldn't really think that. Brett has never used the word "buddy."
He's a trooper. And he's very good at the board game Battleship. This should be said.
...............
When I was ten years old, our teacher asked us what super power we would want to have if we could choose. My answer was immediate. "I'd wish that God could tell me who I was going to marry."
I attended a private christian school, so it wasn't a shock I mixed God into the "super-power" territory, but my teacher was confused nonetheless.
"Well, that is not exactly a super power, right?" She ventured. "I mean, you could just pray that God would direct you to the man that was intended for you."
"Oh no." I wisely returned. "I'd want a specific answer right away, so I was hoping the super power part would be that I had this hologram tablet-thing that let me know everything I needed to know. Right away. And maybe give me a picture of him and his favorite foods and stuff." (sorry techie-internet-people- I'm pretty sure this is me inventing the ipad and the internet all in one go, so you know...sorry I beat you to it. And anyone that corrects me and says "the internet was actually around during this time." IT WASN'T REALLY BECAUSE WE STILL USED ENCYCLOPEDIAS TO WRITE ESSAYS AND COMPUTERS WERE THE SIZE OF MINI COOPERS. SO BACK OFF.)
The real reason behind my desire for this power-that-isn't-really-a-power was the fact that I DESPERATELY wanted to marry Joey Lawrence, and I was interested to see what God on my hologram tablet had to say about that. I didn't want the mystery of adult dating-(which I still thought was sharing ice cream cones, (ew.) Followed by a swift and chaste proposal. And hopefully sparkling apple juice because that was the bomb and made me feel ridiculously fancy.) I just wanted answers. I wanted them right then and there and at my fingertips AND with a wax stamp of approval from the All Mighty.
Wouldn't life be great if it worked like that?
Well, I didn't marry Joey Lawrence. He was heartbroken, but I was all: "Dude, chill. You will have a full life of mediocre sitcoms and a stint on 'Dancing With The Stars' and still be, you know, handsome. And bald. Oh yeah. Sorry. You'll be bald. BUT YOU'LL HAVE ABS!"
And thankfully he moved on...because I found Brett.
Brett who loves to dance with me and sings the lyrics of the song in my ear. Brett who cuts fruit for me in the morning and cooks elaborate dinners for me at night. Brett who listens to me talk about scrambled eggs for 3 hours, patiently and with interest, and then will tell his own story about duck hunting for 3 hours.
And I'll listen patiently too. And not think of Joey Lawrence AT ALL.
Because I married the real star.
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