Eleven? Feels like Twenty...

Eleven years ago today Jake and I got hitched.

In a tiny little chapel on Las Vegas Boulevard, we walked down the aisle, arm in arm. Our limo driver was our witness and a preacher, who was five feet nothing, sporting one of the worst hairpieces I have ever seen, performed the ceremony.

Now that I think about it...I don't even know if he was a preacher. It is more likely that he was a ship captain, who was forced inland for his drinking problem. Or, maybe he was ordained online for $19.95. Who knows...either way, I'm pretty sure our marriage is legal and legit.

A little bit of info about Jake and I...while we are ridiculously happy and have fun where ever we go...things don't always go so smoothly for us. Never have, never will. If something can go wrong with us, it will. But, one of my favorite things about my husband, is that he has taught me to just roll with the punches and adapt.

We are fucking amazing adapters!!!

Joey was almost eight months old, still waiting on his transplant, and well enough to leave him with family and his home nurses. I was turning 21 in a couple of days, and Jake said, "What the hell, let's hop a plane to Vegas and tie the knot. Let me make an honest woman out of you." I said, "Sho..."

We partied with friends the night before we left, to celebrate. I remember falling into bed at about 4:30am...our flight was leaving at 8am, and our ceremony was scheduled for 10pm, that night.

We got to Vegas, checked things out a bit. We were exhausted. We headed downtown to get our license. Fuck it's easy to get hitched in that town!! We were filthy from being in a club all night, and not having time to shower before we left. We were HUNG OVER something awful.

Around 4pm, we decided to lay down and take a nap. We thought, we'll wake up refreshed, shower, then get this show on the road. We carefully set the alarm on the bedside table, pulled the curtains to darken the room, and were out like a light.

We wake to the phone. It's our limo driver. He's downstairs. To pick us up. You know...FOR OUR WEDDING!!! It's 9:15pm.

The alarm malfunctioned. Why we did not simply get a wake up call, instead...I'll never know. Like I said, if it can go wrong, it will...a wake up call would've taken that out of the equation. So, uh-uh...that's not how we roll.

Jake says to the guy, "Uh, yeah, she's finishing up...she'll be ready in a sec...can you give us 15 minutes?"

Fifteen minutes...that's how long it took this bride to get ready for her big day.

I jump in the shower to rinse off. Jake decides to tidy up his goatee, as it is looking unkempt. He shaves a strip with his electric trimmer...and it pookies out. The battery is dead, and we didn't bring the charger. So, he has half a shaven goatee, I have rinsed the dirt off of me, but am still not clean, and quickly dry my hair, throw on some makeup...and in record time, at 9:35pm we are out the door.

We get to the chapel at 10pm, chit chat with the preacher/sailor/techy about the meaing of marriage. Seriously? Seriously? This guy is gonna counsel us?

Aaaaaaand ten minutes later, we were Mr. and Mrs.

Ten minutes...that's how long it took this bride to secure the old ball and chain.

Eleven years, several shitstorms, lots of kids, a few houses, plenty of yelling, and tons of laughing, and I'm happier than I've ever been.