Two years ago today, GB and surprised pretty much everyone we know by getting married For Real, 10 years to the day after we met.*

We met in what may well be the diviest bar in San Francisco–and yes, that’s saying a lot. I ended up bartending there a couple years later–and oh, do I have stories from that time. But when GB and i met, I wasn’t working there yet–just frequenting it all too often. We had a mutual friend who was bartending there–I knew her from my other regular bar, and GB had a class with her (he was finishing up his BA). The night we met was a full moon, and it was huge and low in the sky–I made our friend M., the bartender, come outside with me to see it. It was spectacular. Then I went in and sat at the end of the bar, and M. said, “This is my school friend GB,” and we spent the next few hours rolling cigarettes and smoking way too many of them, drinking ridiculously strong vodka drinks, and talking about Bob Dylan. I told him I had the biggest Dylan bootleg collection he would probably ever see, and he took my phone number so that I could prove it. He came over to my apartment a few days later to listen to Dylan bootlegs on vinyl and drink vodka and pineapple juice with me and the Yogini.

And the rest, as they say, is the kind of history we probably won’t tell the kids all about.

Ten years later, we gathered around 30 of our nearest and dearest (including a handful of extraordinary friends who traveled across the whole freaking country for us) in a campground, started up “New Morning” on a portable CD player, and got Skycat to officially marry the hell outta us.

It was an amazing day. It’s been an amazing journey. We’ve had an open relationship pretty much since day 1. We’ve driven across the US twice and up and down it four or five times. We’ve lived with five awesome cats. We’ve drank boatloads of booze, consumed excessive quantities of illegal substances, made utterly fabulous friends, and listened to amazing music together. And we’ve started this terrifying and thrilling baby-making adventure together.

And after all these years and all this stuff, I feel like the luckiest person in the world when I look at GB’s face every morning.

We rock. Happy anniversary to us.

*I say this, but it’s not strictly true–technically, we met on May 3rd, and got married on May 6th ten years later. We tried to get married on the 3rd, but it was a Wednesday and not so convenient. But I usually stick with the story that we got married on our 10th anniversary together.

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