During the summer of 1999, I was spending my time baking in the hot sun and hanging around with a lot of men in tight pants. Translation: I worked Community Relations for a minor league baseball team. For very little money and for very long hours, I toiled doing such things as corralling a mascot, finding people to sing the National Anthem and driving players around to entertain little league kids.
In between all of this and the countless other crazy things I did that summer, I found time to plan a wedding and marry the man I love. We were young, stupid and poor. Gas was 98 cents a gallon. Oh, how I love that time.
It was a sweltering day, and despite the fact that I was wearing pantyhose, a huge crinoline filled slip, a bustier and a two piece wedding dress, I was surprisingly cool. As soon as I stepped to the front of the room and grabbed the hands of my beloved, the thunder sounded, lightening struck and the heavens opened. We ignored this clear sign of disapproval from God and proceeded. That day 10 years ago is burned into my memory as the best damned day of my life.
There are way too many reasons I love him, too many examples of the amazing things he does, too many jokes we've shared to go into on a blog post. But, I needed to say something, to put a few words down about my man, the greatest guy in the world.
I love you, baby. Now, today, tomorrow and always. 10 years. . . .Crazy.