October kicked off with a little celebration of tourism. Love and tourism. Love and marriage and tourism. And most importantly, no children.
Nearly four years ago Khary and I exchanged wedding vows and embarked on the crazy life we live together. Somewhere I have a copy of my vows, where I talked about knowing the moment I met him that he was one of the kindest men I’d ever met, and one of the most persistent. That part got laughs because most of our family and friends knew about the years he tried to court me. Woo me. Sweep me off my feet. During those years, I wanted to be friends. And then one day, I wanted more. That was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
If we were to redo our vows, Khary would insist on making his funny. I had made him promise that he would not TRY and be funny because he needed to profess his love for me (he did). He told me after that he wished he had tried. Because I got the laughs.
We escaped the sunny side of the bay and ventured back to San Francisco to get our anniversary on. The plan included a stop at Fog City Diner for lunch, a short Bay Cruise, a Pedi-cab ride back to the ferry building, wine and oysters and the Hog Island Oyster Co., and then a little rest and relaxation in our hotel room before dinner.
The rest of the night was pure Chez Romance—riding the 38 bus down Geary Street surrounded by a bunch of drunk people. It was one of those nights, when cabs were full or nonexistent. But it didn’t spoil our mood (almost, but the wine helped keep me happy). We still had a fabulous dinner and finally managed to hit up one of our favorite spots in the Mission: Bar.
In the morning I missed the girls but we managed to stretch the morning out to afternoon because kids do not understand anniversaries or hangovers.
The second and third decision I’ve ever made: Jocelyn and Aja.