I know we said we probably weren’t going to get married until I was done with school, but about three weeks ago, practically old news at this point, Feller started asking what the heck were we waiting for?! I mean, he’s been joking for a couple of months about “when we get married next month (for tax reasons)”, but I never really super thought that we WOULD actually get married “next month”. I thought we’d have lots of time to think about it and plan it and … I don’t know.
But he was right. What WERE we waiting for? Neither one of us wanted to have any sort of major EVENT with the money and the planning and the drama and UGH. But I think, I sort of still expected that we’d have something more traditional, even though that’s NOT what I wanted, it’s the kind of thing that is so societally ingrained that the idea of ACTUALLY going off the rails and running away seemed crazy and unlikely.
But we did! We went from making the decision to married in less than 48 hours. Feller spent the day before calling around trying to find an officiant and witnesses. We ended up having the ceremony in Santa Cruz, about 45 minutes away from where we were staying Salinas because that’s where the officiant was. And it was beautiful! The weather was perfect and the beach not too crowded, and we got to just be there together and focused on each other. We didn’t have any distractions or anything.
As we stood looking at each other, holding each other’s hands, saying our vows, I couldn’t stop laughing. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK was even going on?! We were getting MARRIED. Like for reals. Really really married. It was by far the most bizarre thing I have ever done, with making the decision on our marriage license to change my name being a close second, but it was also the most glorious.
Everything around us faded away, and it didn’t matter one bit where we were or who was there to witness or that the officiant was some lady we had found on the internet. All I could see and hear was Feller.
(And to the delight of our photographer and my mother, I got married barefoot. Not because of any statement I was trying to make or any real conscious decision, but simply because I forgot how much I hated sand when I chose my footwear. I took one step off the little path down the beach, and my shoes filled with sand that was touching my feet and being all icky and sandy and UGH. SAND. So, shoes came off just so I could get away from the sand with which they were filled.)
Now, it’s been three weeks since our wedding, and it’s been wonderful. We’re happy and being all grownup and shit and planning budgets and talking about joint bank accounts and changing my name. I’ve got all new forms of identification coming to me and work has already changed my name in the system, and it’s very strange and exciting and new and wonderful to go from Amy MaidenName to Amy Feller. I am certainly looking forward to spending the rest of my life as Mrs. Feller.