Where did the time go?
Three years and three weeks ago, Pete and I took the train from Earley to Wokingham and walked into the Wokingham Registrar's office. We held hands and seemed calm, if someone took a picture they'd think we were waiting at the Doctor's office.
A tall, thin older lady with graying brown hair called us into her office where we sat down across from her at her desk. She handed us a booklet, "Weddings and Ceremonies" and we gave her our names, birthdates, birthplaces, and parents' information. She thumbed through her calendar, telling us that we had to wait a few weeks while they'd put us on the register and people could mark their oppositions to our union if they liked... and asked us, "How's the 2nd of March?"
We shrugged, looked at each other and said "Sure." You'd think we were scheduling a root canal. But in my head I was looking at picture frames, napkins, and wedding bands engraved with that date, 2 March 2002. How did it look? Was that all right? Did it really matter? Do I have to GASP wear a dress? Where was Vegas when you needed it?
We walked out of the registry with our arms around each other, smiling smugly and daydreaming of a life together. What would be different? Would we ever be on our own and NOT living with parents? Can't we just get married in jeans? What about rings...Oh, a pub, I'm hungry.
We sat and had lunch in a pub just down the road and thumbed through our little yellow pamphlet on registry ceremonies, looking for the right vows to say to each other, and the right reading for our 10 minute gathering. Over my egg mayonnaise baguette I grinned at Pete thinking about the day I first laid eyes on him - wondering if he'd be a cool person to hang out with, and the day we were finally introduced - thinking that I wanted to marry someone just like him... and our first kiss that night in Amsterdam - wondering the hey took him so long!
Three years ago today, Pete's brother picked me and his girlfriend up in his speedwagon and sped all of the nerves out of me on the way to Wokingham. By the time we had arrived, my hair was a mess from headbanging to a Guns n Roses song, and my stomach had been left behind at the George Roundabout. I walked into the Registry and found Pete sitting there, with a fresh new haircut, with a nervous grin and sweaty palms. Ten minutes later we stood and said the simplest of simple vows to each other with only my in-laws at witnesses, two ladies for the official Registrar, and Whitney Houston singing faintly in the background. Then our handwritten marriage certificate was signed by all, and the Registrar signed away that I had gone from "Spinster" (yes, it really does say that) to "Spencer."
Wow, three years. Can you believe it? Here's to 50+ more...
Happy Anniversary us!
A tall, thin older lady with graying brown hair called us into her office where we sat down across from her at her desk. She handed us a booklet, "Weddings and Ceremonies" and we gave her our names, birthdates, birthplaces, and parents' information. She thumbed through her calendar, telling us that we had to wait a few weeks while they'd put us on the register and people could mark their oppositions to our union if they liked... and asked us, "How's the 2nd of March?"
We shrugged, looked at each other and said "Sure." You'd think we were scheduling a root canal. But in my head I was looking at picture frames, napkins, and wedding bands engraved with that date, 2 March 2002. How did it look? Was that all right? Did it really matter? Do I have to GASP wear a dress? Where was Vegas when you needed it?
We walked out of the registry with our arms around each other, smiling smugly and daydreaming of a life together. What would be different? Would we ever be on our own and NOT living with parents? Can't we just get married in jeans? What about rings...Oh, a pub, I'm hungry.
We sat and had lunch in a pub just down the road and thumbed through our little yellow pamphlet on registry ceremonies, looking for the right vows to say to each other, and the right reading for our 10 minute gathering. Over my egg mayonnaise baguette I grinned at Pete thinking about the day I first laid eyes on him - wondering if he'd be a cool person to hang out with, and the day we were finally introduced - thinking that I wanted to marry someone just like him... and our first kiss that night in Amsterdam - wondering the hey took him so long!
Three years ago today, Pete's brother picked me and his girlfriend up in his speedwagon and sped all of the nerves out of me on the way to Wokingham. By the time we had arrived, my hair was a mess from headbanging to a Guns n Roses song, and my stomach had been left behind at the George Roundabout. I walked into the Registry and found Pete sitting there, with a fresh new haircut, with a nervous grin and sweaty palms. Ten minutes later we stood and said the simplest of simple vows to each other with only my in-laws at witnesses, two ladies for the official Registrar, and Whitney Houston singing faintly in the background. Then our handwritten marriage certificate was signed by all, and the Registrar signed away that I had gone from "Spinster" (yes, it really does say that) to "Spencer."
Wow, three years. Can you believe it? Here's to 50+ more...
Happy Anniversary us!
