Back in the days before getting married to one another was even a remote possibility, Scott and I spent a lot of time together making a series of silly cooking videos. Once we finally got our heads out of respective asses and figured out that being together made an enormous amount of sense, fresh episodes became fewer, as we didn’t need to schedule an activity in order to hang out.

Thing is, we still have a whole lot of fondness for Fork You, despite the fact that in the last nine months, we’ve hardly posted any episodes. And so, now that all this wedding stuff is behind us, we’re doing our best to resuscitate the show. In addition to this one, in which we taste test cupcakes from three different area bakeries, we’ve got two other episodes in the can (as they say in Hollywood). Which ‘cake reigns supreme? You’ll just have to watch to find out!

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In the two weeks since Scott and I returned from our honeymoon, I’ve been feeling a little lost. For so many months, my energy and focus was directed towards making everything come together for September 26th that once the day was past, I felt a little uncertain, directionless. I realize that this is a common feeling for newly married women who put lots of energy into their weddings, but I somehow I thought that since ours was a small wedding, I’d be able to avoid the post-nuptial blues. I was wrong.

The way it manifested for me was through feelings of hopelessness. I began to feel like this basket in which I put so many of my career hopes, the one labeled food writer/teacher, was so very, very misguided. Watching all the other food writers and bloggers out there, I questioned what exactly it was that I brought to the table. I couldn’t remember why I had once felt that I had anything to offer and started to nurture a belief that I was shamefully out of my league.

Last Thursday, I went to a chocolate, wine and cheese tasting put on by The Food Trust, and for a while, that experience buoyed me. I talked about food, canning and issues around the way we eat and for awhile, I shed the hopelessness and reconnected with my excitement. But in the last few days, it’s slipped away again (admittedly, a really miserable 4-day jury duty experience this week didn’t help things).

I realize that I’m going to get through these feelings. And I know (at least, most of the time) that in the world of food writing, I bring a number of really wonderful things to the table. However, I also recognize that in this era of closing magazines and newspapers, the options for people who want to deal with food and words in equal measure are scant. Beyond that, I just don’t know.

What do the rest of you do when you find yourselves in a place like this?

Scott and I got married to one another on Saturday, September 26th. It was an amazing day and while the weather wasn’t quite as warm as I would have liked, the rain held off until just after we finished cleaning up. The food our friends and family brought to share was delicious, the cakes that I made were perfect and people had a really good time.

One of our goals with this wedding was to keep the ceremony portion short, as we were asking people to stand for it. So we kept our vows brief, funny and to the point. Here’s what we said to each other.

Marisa, to Scott

For the years that we were nothing more than friends, I swore up and down to anyone who would listen that you were not the man for me. It wasn’t until you started dating someone else that I realized how deeply I adored you (despite the fact that you didn’t have a driver’s license and that you are undeniably a picky eater). Now, I can’t imagine my life without you.

Scott, I am delighted to be marrying you today, and I vow to you to love you for the rest of my life, even when you’re painfully stubborn, when you turn up your nose at my sautéed string beans or when you fling your dirty socks across the room. I promise to support your dreams and will never stop encouraging you to write those novels we all know are in you. I promise to respect your Star Trek cards, weekly D & D dates and general geekery, and appreciate your similar courtesy for my jars, cookbooks and sundry kitchen implements.

Scott, I vow to give you the quiet time you need and to be the one in our relationship who deals with the minutia of daily living. I solemnly swear that I’ll never stop laughing, even if things get momentarily grim. And most of all, I vow to always embrace your whimsy, your humor and all your wacky charms.

You are my person, my favorite boy and I love you with all I’ve got.

Scott, to Marisa

If you asked me 10 years ago, or even 3 years ago, if I would be getting married to a hippie, at a potluck wedding officiated by a lesbian I would have laughed at you. And yet, here we are and words can’t express how happy I am. Funny how life works, isn’t it?

Marisa, you and I are complete opposites in many ways. I’m tall, you’re short. I hardly know what day of the week it is, you’re always on top of the details. I’m funny and you’re… well maybe we can move on.

Marisa, I vow to do as I am told most of the time. I promise to not make your life any more difficult than I normally do. I promise to talk you through moments of panic and anxiety with a smile and love in my heart. I vow to at least try and express my feelings more than fortnightly, and above all else I promise to be your partner in all of life’s adventures and misfortunes.

You are the love of my life, the reason I wake up in the morning, the spring in my step, and I can’t imagine life without you.