I'm Back, Married, and Ready To Work!

Seriously, I have so much work to do!

I spent a mini placeholder honeymoon by the sea. It was lovely. Our real one will be great — whenever we decide what it’ll be! | Photo by Jermaine Ee on Unsplash

I’m back!

After a whirlwind of wedding planning, day-of shenanigans, a hell of a kerfuffle about the wedding cake — arguably the main point of the wedding day, only half joking — and a miniature placeholder honeymoon, I have returned.

We performed our own ceremony beneath the swaying boughs of an apple orchard, our family and close friends in attendance by a beautiful historic village and a magnificant river.

The moment we rounded the house arm in arm to walk down the aisle, the sun broke through the clouds. Not even kidding; nobody could shut up about it for the rest of the day. The gods have a sense of humour!

The reception was a blast, with good music, great food and an extremely peppy bartender who kept everyone in a good mood through the night.

There was plenty of dancing, fun and good cheer until it was time to rest.

The next day, my new spouse and I made our way south to the coast and settled in for a miniature vacation by the sea. We intend to have a proper honeymoon later on, once he’s safely settled here in Canada and we have money set aside.

But we spent five days relaxing by a beautiful fire, drinking cocktails and playing chess in the evenings. We shopped in a little vacation town, we shivered through cold nights for the promise of s’mores by a bonfire outside our resort, and we basked in gorgeous sunsets and the scent of sea salt on the air.

The view was amazing, the weather was near-perfect, and the food was incredible.

Alas, our little trip is over, and now I am home. And with a brand new laptop on my desk, a little self-wedding-gift, I am ready to get back to work!

My desk is not this neat, unfortunately. | Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

Unfortunately, the trip wasn’t all sunshine, happy memories and rainbows.

It began with a scare.

As I’ve written about before, my spouse is an American citizen. We’re in the process of gathering the paperwork to apply for his Permanent Residency here in Canada, but until we get the green light, he is still living and working in the U.S.

So to come up for the wedding, he obviously had to cross the border. Usually this is easy enough; we knew the Canadians would do an extra security check because he was coming here for his wedding, but they’re chill and friendly and know him pretty well at this point.

We have both made the trip back and forth plenty of times since we started dating; this is routine by now. But this time we had a curveball.

This time, it wasn’t just the Canadians waiting for him to make the drive up the highway.

Coming up the path to the border, my spouse was stopped by a checkpoint of American border patrol and their dogs.

This was on the U.S. side of the border, on the approach to Canada’s border station. These were Americans, checking American cars on the way out of the United States.

They made him exit his vehicle. They searched it, took their dogs around the car, and questioned him about why he was leaving the U.S. When told he was coming for his wedding, they started asking him questions about me.

Who was he marrying? Why a Canadian? What does she do for a living? She writes? For what publication?

They wanted to know details. Reading between the lines, he told me he was absolutely certain they wanted to know what my politics are.

They were fishing for something that would mark him as a political dissident.

They eventually let him go when they found no drugs or anything illegal they could arrest him for, and he went through the security check in Canada without issue.

But when he arrived, he was anxious. I could see the stiffness in his stance and the set of his jaw. It rattled him to be cornered like that.

And that’s exactly the point of it.

This was a scare tactic, and worst of all, it’s one I was already aware of. I was wondering if he would encounter a border checkpoint here, because I knew there were others around border crossings out west.

Now I know.

I always knew Trump’s wall was not just to keep people out. It was a cage. | Photo by Greg Bulla on Unsplash

This is just one of the many things the Trump administration is doing that makes travel feel incredibly risky for foreigners and Americans alike.

Taking pictures of people entering and leaving. Targeting green card and visa holders who exercise their free speech rights to protest. Denying entry to visitors for criticizing Donald Trump and his regime.

Then of course, there are the detainments and mass kidnappings and trafficking.

I won’t call it deportation, because deportation requires due process of law — and that’s not happening.

We knew there would be trouble for us with all of this going on, and I wasn’t surprised to hear that my spouse ran into the wannabe-Gestapo. I was angry and worried on his behalf, but not surprised.

Thankfully I can report that he has since made it home safely — hopefully though, that won’t be home for much longer. We’ve begun the process of getting him out and bringing him here to the relative safety of Canada.

As soon as Trump won the election this year, we both knew that there was no chance I would be moving south to be with him. First of all, he knew damn well I wouldn’t be willing to, and secondly, he didn’t want to stick around.

He no longer feels safe in his home country, and it breaks his heart.

It breaks mine. I know he loved his country and its people. I know how disappointed he is with how things are going.

As I’ve said before, we’re both history buffs. We see the echoes of the past repeating now, and we know where things are headed. Each of these steps that the Trump administration is taking are bricks in the wall of an authoritarian coup.

They are building the crypt in which they will house the fallen U.S. democracy once they’ve choked the last screaming dregs of life out of it with their bare hands.

We tried to keep our eyes off of the news during our wedding vacation, but we failed. We couldn’t stop looking, we couldn’t stop talking about it, we couldn’t hold back the frustrated snarling rage we felt at every new horrific headline.

Every injustice, every step down the road, every new piece of evidence that the rule of law no longer exists even in theory.

Every new disgrace is another insult that bites deep.

We did celebrate our love, and we enjoyed every bit of it. I just wish we didn’t have so much to fear. | Photo by Mandy von Stahl on Unsplash

I am back at my keyboard, and back at work. I am rested and shaking out the cobwebs of my brain, and finally getting an eye on the news and taking notes for future articles.

There’s no shortage of things to get worked up about, lucky me.

Like I said before I left, I am having to cut back a bit to one longform article a week rather than two, mostly because I am taking on more and more hours at my day job and I simply won’t have as much free time for research and writing as I did before.

Needless to say, I’m trying to put as much money into my savings as I possibly can. We’re going to need it.

But rest assured, World-Weary isn’t going anywhere. As long as I’m still tired, I’ll have shit to rant about.

At least now I’ll be doing it with a ring on my finger!

I’m glad to be home so I can reconnect with all of you lovely people, you warriors for change and dear friends. I’ve missed you all; your comments, your suggestions, and this little community we’re building.

So, tune in next week for a return to our regularly scheduled dissertations about society and all its ills. And for my paid subscribers, I look forward to seeing you on Friday for our bi-weekly rant session on the podcast!

Until then, folks, always remember:

Solidarity wins.

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