Happy Birthdaversary to all whom celebrate (it's us, we are celebrating)

21 years ago today, my now-partner Della was celebrating her 21st birthday with only her camera and film, a pair of jeans, a shirt, a pair of chucks, her passport and a $10 white dress with black polka dots that she bought at target (we'll get to that in a few) because everything else she owned was in a suitcase causing security upsets at Heathrow due to it having arrived from across the Atlantic without a passenger.

27 years ago yesterday, my now-partner Della's best friend's boyfriend was having a birthday party; that boyfriend was really close friends with my best friend/neighbor so I was invited to said party and this is where we first met. Della made fun of my last name being 'Shirley' and me having a business card for a thrift store in my wallet that had a unicorn. (Flirting!)

Us on a photo excursion circa 2005

21 years and three days ago my now-partner Della decided at the very last second to get off the plane she was on before it took off for her new life in Denmark¹. She, in tears, tried to explain to the captain that she was not a terrorist and just really wanted to get married instead.

21 years and three days ago I'd dropped my now-partner Della off at SFO and cried my eyes out saying goodbye to her because she was moving to Europe for school; a thing that had been planned out before she and I had rekindled our relationship from high school. I was also so distraught that I forgot what level I'd parked on and spent the next hour lost in the bowels of the concrete nightmare. When I'd finally found my car and gotten on 101 heading back south, I got a call from a 650 payphone number when her plane should have already been in the air. Instead of being home, I was one exit from the airport.

21 years and three days ago my now-partner Della and I ran across the fucking SFO terminal to embrace each other, crying and solemnly deciding "fuck it we're going to elope at city hall", much to the joy of onlookers and airport staff at the ridiculousness of the gesture.

21 years and three days ago my now-partner Della and I drove to San Francisco City Hall and applied for a marriage license. When everything was done and on the books, they informed us they were booked up with judge appointments for the next few days, and we'd need to come back on August 1st. Her birthday.

Our official "wedding photo" outside SF City Hall

21 years ago today, my now-partner Della became my partner Della as the two of us (her in her white and dotted dress, me in my finest starbucks employee formal wear) said vows and exchanged bottlecap necklaces we'd made for each other when we were in high school on the rotunda at San Francisco city hall in front of a Judge who mispronounced both of our names, and one witness because the other witnesses we'd brought were feeding their parking meters.

21 years ago today, my partner Della and I high fived as we were declared legally entwined while shouting "hella married!" at each other which delighted the Judge to no end. He demanded a photo with us. We took one! We do not have a copy of it lmao

I love this photo of us taken a few days later at my sister's beach birthday party where we conspicuously hadn't told anyone we were married yet lmao

Anyway, that's the Birthdaversary story! Della and I, happily together in a relationship old enough to purchase alcohol in our country.

I'm letting her sleep in but we'll do proper selfies later when we get all dressed up. Love a reason to dress up (Note: you never actually need one, but it's nice to be extra when you do)

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