We've been legally recognized as a union of partners by the United States of America for two years now, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Except for the whole blanket thing. That I think we can work on. Blanket etiquette. But other than that, I wouldn't have it any other way-- this whole being formal life partners thing, so formal that we got a judge involved. It's like, legit. This partnership between me and you.
We celebrated early by taking a quick little trip to Bainbridge Island. We went outside on the passenger deck to get optimal viewing of the Puget Sound. The horn blast was so loud, I jumped. I almost dropped my flat neice into the waters below. She'd have been a really soggy flat niece if I had done so. Bainbridge Island is so cute. It's reminiscent of "Moonrise Kingdom." I 100 percent want to roam around with stolen library books and suck on stones to quench my thirst. But instead we opted for coffee. Like normal people.
We ate grilled cheese and drank coffee, roamed around downtown, saw some art, checked out the boutiques, and were ready for dinner, except for the fact that I really needed to use the restroom. Like in an offloading kind of way. We went into the bookstore, and I found the bathroom. It was one of those single person bathrooms, sandwiched right between their cash register and their office. A high traffic area in a very, very quiet bookstore. Super not ideal for using the restroom. In a discrete, numero dos kind of way, if you catch my drift.
But I knew the path that lay before me. Of dining in a cute, minimum fancy restaurant and wanting to enjoy every bite without worrying about the load within.
So I did what I had to do. And then we moved forward with our lives.
We had dinner. We had been looking forward to this meal of decadent pasta and dessert. But like, honestly, .... like, really, truly, honestly... ehhh, it was ok. Pasta can be under-cooked, and sauce can be too salty, but ... if your server spills water on the table and reaches to wipe it down, and a whiff of her underarm scent rushes to your face, then that's the final straw. Actually, the final straw is the water that was not even wiped up properly, leaving a dampness on the table. This is the yelp review I would leave if I was a yelpy-type person.
Riding the ferry back home was riveting, because we were going a whole 1 knots per hour. At times, it seemed like we were almost pushing 2 knots per hour, but for the most part, I think we were going a steady 1 knots per hour. If you're wondering, I think that I -- as a mermaid-- would be able to swim faster that that. I'm probably like, in the average 3 knots per hour tier, I would guess. Somewhere around that range.
And that was our little anniversary excursion. Two year matrimonials. That's us. Every day is fun. Every day is unexpected. I wouldn't have it any other way (save for the aforementioned blanket thing).
Anata no koto ga suki da yoooo. Let's go home together now.
-j
