White Trash Wedding

Tomorrow is our Anniversary.  As of tomorrow we will have been married for eight whole years.  I know in the grand scheme of things, this is child's play; however, marriage is never as easy as that.

We had a storybook beginning....or at least I wish we did.  We actually met in a bar.  A bar called 'The Pump'; that in and of itself reeks of romance and class, does it not?  Anyway, that fateful January 4th, I went out, when not really even in the mood to, with two of my best friends at the time.  I say at the time because even though I still think one is a super person, we have mostly lost touch, so best friends, I no longer think we are but there was a time when we were bestest of friends.  The other chum?  Well that would be my most ignorant of all slut friends, Jane.  Jane is not her real name but in keeping with the grand Saturday Night Live tradition, she shall henceforth be known as Jane, the Ignorant Slut.  If you don't get that reference I feel sad for you.  Google it.

Anyway, out Jane, the Tex Pistol and I went.  It was only three short days after New Year's.  I had gotten beyond drunk that New Year's Eve and rang in 2002 by puking my guts out until about 9 p.m. January 1.  I wasn't really in the mood to go out on the 4th, but as Tex and I hadn't spent much time together, I figured what the hell.  My kids were with their dad and it would be a quiet night.

Or not.

We began by drinking wine and engaging in some witty political banter with the cab driver on the way to the bar.  We entered The Pump and it wasn't long into the evening when Tex ran into some people he knew.  People he knew, but Jane and I did not.  So while he was visiting we were left at a table with veritable strangers.  One of the strangers then asked who would be interested in doing a shot?  I figured what the hell and with that we all downed a shot of Baja Rosa. 

And that my friends, is it where it all began.  Is anyone really surprised that my husband was able to pick me up with the offer of a shot?  I mean, that's not all it took.  We talked and danced and even discussed our respective views on marriage.  I'm not sure how or why we even got on the subject of marriage and he stated when he got married it was going to be for keeps.  Duh.  That's what most people plan on.  Not many get married with the intention of 'giving it a whirl' for a year or two and then parting ways. Not unless you are being sponsored by ABC, anyway. 

It was then I shared with him that I was in fact divorcing my husband and had two children. 

It was then that he began back pedalling.

Obviously successfully.

The next night I dragged another good friend out to the bar with me.  She did not want to go out either but because she is one of the most loyal people I have ever met, and a very good friend, she came.  And I met up with Mr. Baja Rosa again.

Mr. Rosa actually lived in Calgary, Alberta at the time.  This was roughly seven hours away from where I lived.  The ironic part was he was born and raised in Moose Jaw, which was a mere forty minutes away from where I was living.

A long distance relationship began.  He liked to talk on the phone.  A lot.  And because I was smitten and falling in love with him, I thought this was fucking fantastic.  I remember boasting to friends that we'd spent six hours on the phone in one sitting.  Cut to eight years later and his love of phone chatter is no longer as fantastic.  It is nearly impossible to get off the phone with the man.  Although, after eight years, he is quite tolerant of my phone abruptness and charming way with words, as in: "I'm done talking now. Bye."

We met on January 4, 2002 and married on October 25, 2002.  Between the two of us we did not have a great deal of money and in a fun turn of events, we currently do not have a great deal of money.  However at that time we were full of hope and optimism and whimsy.  We decided to elope.  We told our families we were getting married but advised they would not be made aware of such until after the fact.  So on October 24, 2002, Jane and I made our way to Calgary for the wedding.  Ryan (Mr. Rosa) was working there at the time and his best friend lived there and was going to be our best man.  I looked after the rings; Ryan looked after the ceremony.

At the time the Dixie Chicks had recently released a CD with the song White Trash Wedding on it.  The chorus goes something like this: You can't afford no ring...you can't afford no ring...I shouldn't be wearin' white and you can't afford no ring.  Jane and I laughed it up all the way to Calgary at the irony in that as Ryan had not given me an actual engagement ring due to limited funds.  I instead wore his Grandpa's Shriner's ring and we were going to be exchanging simple gold bands at the ceremony.  Little did we know how much more irony would present itself during the days to come...

You see neither of us are religious people and so were going to have a JP marry us.  Ryan was in charge of that.  We were getting married at 7 p.m.  The five of us: myself, Ryan, Jane, Jason the best man and his wife, Karla, left at about 6:30 p.m.   The first address we pulled up at was a trailer.  Everyone was silent.  Then Ryan realized it was the wrong address and nervous laughter broke out.  Nobody really wants to get married in a trailer.  Or at the very least, I didn't.

So we carried on and found the correct address.  Ryan had only spoken with this woman on the phone and she assured him her home was a lovely setting for a wedding.  Her home, was indeed, a trailer. No joke.  So, with little choice we went in.  And true enough, her living room was nice.  She had a fireplace and it was in front of that we exchanged our vows.  During which the toilet flushed.  I'm assuming that was her husband.  Upon leaving she asked us to close the gate to make sure not to let the dogs out.

Fairy tale romance, I know.

We followed this high class ceremony with a drunken tail gate party on the Sunday where my new husband challenged a self-proclaimed former heroin addict to a beer chugging contest. My groom was victorious and I was again swept off my feet.

Yet here we still are, eight years later.  I had two kids coming into the deal and now we have two more.  I had two cats coming into the deal and now we have two dogs as well.  We both had stable jobs coming into the deal and now neither of us do.  Yet, in terms of our White Trash Wedding, I have no regrets.

You see, he thinks I'm funny.  And even when he doesn't think I'm funny, he enjoys how funny I think I am.  Most of the time, anyway.  He tolerates my tendency to break out into song at any given time.  For as much as I'm negative, he's positive.  And we have fun together. 

When he met me, I had The Boys.  There are not many men who would've been comfortable with their girlfriend being seven hours away and spending most of her child-free weekends with a group of guys, drinking and hanging out.  And while he may not have been entirely comfortable with it, he never let on to me. He was amazingly cool about it and I'm a big enough person to admit had the tables been turned, I would not have been as cool.

Don't get me wrong, he's lucky too.  I am, after all, quite funny and have impeccable taste in music.  I'm a great time after a few drinks and even without.  I can hang with the guys but dress like a girl. 

We're a good match and better yet, despite being married in a trailer, we don't live in one.

Yet.

Happy Anniversary Ryan!

The Boys

Last night I found myself drinking Jagermeister and Red Bull mixed together out of a coffee cup.  This morning I found myself at the McDonald's Drive-Thru at approximately ten to eight  ordering a giant Sprite and breakfast bagel.  I currently look like a bag lady who found a donation bag of men's clothing as I'm decked out in one of my husband's t-shirts and a pair of shorts I've had for fifteen years.  I washed my face but have not brushed my hair.  Besides all that though? I feel great.

Last night I was with The Boys.

Before I met The Boys, I was merely Angela.  It was one of The Boys who nicknamed me Fargs.  And it stuck. And when someone calls me Fargs?  I can't help but smile.  Fargs & The Boys had a lot of good times together. One of my favourite memories and I think maybe theirs was during a road trip to Saskatoon.  I found myself walking out of a hotel on a Sunday morning trailed by The Boys and one of their friends. Not one of us had a suitcase.  I had my make-up bag and a bottle of contact lens solution.  It did not paint the most dignified of pictures....  For the record though nothing happened so get your filthy minds out of the gutter people.
 
I no longer live in the same city as The Boys.  I'm only half an hour away but lives get busy and so we don't see each other very often.  When we do get together?  I usually end up vomiting sometime in the next 24 hours. 

However so far, so good today. No vomit.  Beez, who continued to refer to me as a "light weight" and "pussy" for most of the night may not be able to say the same.  Ogie and I ended the night by talking Beez off the lawn, where he really felt he'd be most comfortable.  Then I spent some time rubbing his back as he hung over the side of the deck.  He didn't puke though. Atta' boy Beezie!  And when I left this morning he was even sleeping indoors.

In all fairness, the last time I drank with these guys and their respective spouses, I vomited all the way home.  Which again, is a half hour drive.  And because I married a saint he cleaned the puke off the outside of my vehicle the next day. And it's also why he's taken our two little boys out this morning so I can enjoy my hangover in peace.  And also why he fell in love with and married a girl with a brigade of Boys for friends.

The whole point of this is I love these guys. I hadn't seen them for a year before last night and we picked up right where we left off.  We made inappropriate comments and jokes about one another and to another.  We took a small trip down memory lane.  They were wholly supportive and positive about my recent job loss in a way that I needed.

And last night I got to be Fargs again.  Which I think is vital to my overall well-being.  For awhile I thought Fargs was dead and it saddened me.  Read about that here: The Dissolution of a Friday Night.

As a side note, the girls that The Boys finally settled down with are just as fabulous as my the boy I settled down with.  I owe a huge Thank You to Ogie's wife, Janna, for putting up with our drunken antics last night.  It was their child's 2nd birthday party that facilitated our drunken debauchery.  They also have a not quite two month old baby.  Janna? Deserves a medal because as cool as Fargs is,  Angela might not have been so gracious of a host in the same situation.  So Thank You.

This post is dedicated to The Boys, in no particular order: JB, Ogie, Beez, and Murphy (even though he wasn't there last night and I haven't seen him in seven years, he was one of The Boys).  It's also dedicated to Jenn, Janna and Ryan for accepting and supporting the fact that Fargs always has been and will always be one of The Boys.