Licensed to Civilize

Today was a banner day: we decided to go out civil union license from the county clerk's office.  My favorite number is "3," so we figured why not? It's the third day of the month and the third day they are doing civil union licensing. Why wait when there are lucky threes to be had? I gathered up my divorce papers and prepared for our big day.

I am here to tell you: I was a nervous, sweaty, excited mess getting this license. I was mostly an over-the-top-happiness mess, but after waiting so very long for anything like this to happen, it was hard not to be nervous.  Truth be told, I didn't think this day would ever happen.  Not knowing what to expect, not knowing what we were doing and not knowing much of anything except that we needed our driver's licenses and twenty bucks in cash made it all the more perspiration-filled. 

Many people find it quite humorous that I do not recall one-one-billionth of applying for my marriage license back in my previous life.  No offense to my ex-husband (or, to my parents who shelled out thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars), I do not remember one thing related to this process.  I certainly don't remember going to the County Clerk's office and I know we had to in order to get a marriage license.  I remember signing the license after the wedding, but getting the license? I got nuthin'.

I thought long and hard about what to wear.  Seriously.  I knew I would remember this day for the rest of my life, so I knew the outfit had to be perfect. 

 

My decision: my Lady Gaga t-shirt.  After all, she says we were born this way.  For those of you who think I'm kidding, here's a photo of me, my Gaga t-shirt and the license.  Notice Lucy is in the background, wondering what the hell I am doing.

I also decided to wear my favorite-ist red-for-fun Earth shoes, as they completed the outfit in a way only Lady Gaga could appreciate. 

Once we finally got to the county clerk's office (note to self: check address before leaving house), we found ourselves alone--nary a soul in sight.  No straight people looking for marriage licenses, no couples of mixed or same sex looking for civil union licenses. No media, no protesters, no nothing. It was deliciously quiet. We bellied up to the bar--er, counter--and waited for our moment.  A friendly-but-not-too-scary-friendly woman in lime green inquired what we needed.  I somehow choked out, "we're here to get a license for a civil union." The words I have been waiting to say, now said! Next thing we knew, we were being handed paperwork and being asked various questions of no-relation-that-I-could-see to the process.  (Example: Why the State of Illinois need to know or even care about where our parents were born?)  I had been wondering why various sources indicated it takes 15-20 minutes to complete the process--now I knew why--all the questions! I sure don't remember answering any of these questions back in the day. 

I think my favorite question was, "have you ever been in a civil union before?"  I pondered this and then said, "I have been married and am legally divorced, but I've never been in a civil union."  Her reaction assured me I was not the first person to answer in this manner.  From what I gather, the State of Illinois didn't get all this thought through before June 1st--they should be asking if you had been married or civilized before.  Perhaps they thought all gay people were never married.  Hard to tell.  No matter, she didn't want to see my divorce papers (which was kind of disappointing) and didn't need to acknowledge my days of matrimony for the State's records.  

It was actually rather fun and gratefully low key.  The lady had a nice sense of humor and we had several laughs during the process.  The wife's prowess at grading papers came in handy and she spotted some errors in the information. Once the corrected version was presented, I politely pointed out that she had printed out a marriage license form, not a civil union form. That would have made things interesting.  We learned that eight couples signed up on Day One; seven couples signed up on Day Two.  Not exactly a rush of civil union madness.  We had some laughs about the media being on site the first day, we enjoyed mindless banter for most of the happening. At one point, the wife accidentally dropped her driver's license on the floor and said, "pick that up for me--I can't get that." We didn't think anything of this--the wife can't bend over at this point after back surgery.  We then had a chuckle, thinking about what the clerk lady might have thought of that: "Wow, this girl has her partner TRAINED! She doesn't even have to pick up her own things--she just points!"

To end the formal process, we had to raise our right hands and swear we were telling the truth, especially about the part that we are not related. With our solemn vow, we were handed our official license, our keep sake license, an envelope for which to mail the completed license and a pamphlet on sexually transmitted diseases. 

I wish I could say I then swept the wife off her feet or we fell into some ridiculously gross, passionate kiss.... but, I'd be lying.  You know I am not the public display of affection type.  You know I am far from the romantic type.  So, what did I do? 

I am embarrassed to admit that I high-fived the wife.  Seriously.  I ended our historic day with a high five while wearing a Lady Gaga t-shirt.

If that doesn't scream love, I don't know what does.