My new Social Security card and driver's license have arrived in the mail and I am now officially a Lacey. When I receive my new passport, I'm hoping they will also return my old passport so that I can keep them both in a box underneath the floorboards, along with some foreign currencies left over from past travels, and pretend that I am a spy with many aliases.
Sometimes I look at Pete and say "You're my husband" and it's half statement, half question. As if I am reassuring myself that by this point it's probably safe to assume that this is not just a dream. We are married. We have the same last name. It feels weird. In that I do not feel any different. Which is to say that I still feel like myself. Only a more expansive, better version of myself.
Last weekend Pete did a 50 mile bike race and this past weekend I ran a 50K race. Sometimes we do the same crazy awesome things. Sometimes we support each other in doing different crazy awesome things.
Marriage is an excellent adventure.
Lyric of the moment: "But this is what love is for. To be out of place. Gorgeous and alone. Face to face. With no larger problems that need to be erased. Nothing more important than to know someone's listening. Now I know you'll be listening..." ~Wilco "Impossible Germany"
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