I'm really digging this marriage-thing.  Not because it's chock full of Disney fluff.

'Cause it's not.

However, thank goodness for that.  I love our life together exactly the way it is-- ups, downs and all.  And lucky for us, not much has changed since November 22nd other than the humor factor of our relationship-- situations have definitely become funnier 'round here!

Take tonight, for example.  Just 24 hours after our fifth dating anniversary celebration (yah, even though we're no longer in a "dating" relationship, we celebrated the anniversary of our first date-- a first date I shyly failed to acknowledge as a date five years ago, but that's another story altogether) over a romantic dinner at Cucharamama, we found ourselves strolling along the Edgewater waterfront beneath a bright and beautiful, nearly-full moon, excitedly talking about exploring a miniature strip mall just a few feet away. 

Before you deem us lame-os, know that any experience can be fun when shared with a super person.  Any. 

Know, too, that it doesn't take much to make us happy.

Well, all that talking got us to actually explore the miniature strip mall.  Without entering any of the business establishments, and far from delving into creepyadmirer mode (just as a sign instructed), we adoringly watched cute dogs interact with one another at a pet resort.  We also walked by empty jewelry shops, an empty Yolato, an empty Chase bank, an empty deli...

Eventually, we realized that not much was happening on that strip.  So we turned back and headed towards the river.

"So, that's it!" Chris joked.

"Thanks for the tour, sir," I replied.

"Not a problem."

"So," I looked up, "the full moon on Monday is gonna be in Leo-- drama or bravery.  Or both."

"Great!" Chris exclaimed.  

Full moon periods and/or Mercury-retrograde phases always present Chris with tense or interesting predicaments.  In fact, whenever he arrives home with a few commute-related (or other assorted) horror stories, I usually reply with "there's a full moon out there" or "yep, Mercury is retrograde for the next three weeks-- enjoy!".

"Hey, at least you get a heads-up!"  I grinned.  "Really, what would you do without me?"

"Heh-heh."

"A dosage of bravery will be good, babe.  I'm gonna need it while scheduling an appointment to have a wisdom tooth removed, next week," I admitted.

"Yup."

My dentist confirmed that the removal of my wisdom teeth was a phenomenal idea due to some severely overcrowded molars.

Peachy.

"I'm sure I'm not gonna feel a damn thing during the procedure.  But my friend says that she is now capable of enduring the pains of natural childbirth since the removal of her wisdom teeth."

Very encouraging.  Not to mention that, based on that friend's experience, neither marijuana nor Tylenol 3 could subdue the post-tooth-removal agony.  And so she happily recommended Vicodin to me.

Unfortunately, I'm drug-hesitant.  So the mere sound of "Vicodin" is not easy to digest. 

"Deb, take the Vicodin.  Or whatever painkillers you get.  You're gonna need them-- maybe all of them."

"Oh, f*ck it.  How about a nice ol' shot of heroin?" I asked.  "By morning, I won't remember who I am.  I won't even remember the tooth-removal process.  Maybe Eli was onto something!"

"Yeah!" he laughed.

Only Eli, my deceased younger brother, and I would get that joke.  He was a heroin addict for a few years yet undoubtedly more brilliant, intellectual, wise, strong and compassionate than most.   Too bad that only I was brave and patient enough to have basked in his true, golden side for a total of 22 years. 

In the end, it wasn't the drug that took him away from me, anyway. 

It was cancer.

I surrendered.

"Sigh.  Maybe I'll just take whatever I get from the oral surgeon." 

Sarcastically, I added, "Can't wait!"

Then Chris, the man I could talk to about anything in the entire world, laughed and hugged me.  And after one last view of the Hudson river, we waltzed into Trader Joe's for some fun Saturday night grocery shopping.