Marriage, like other things, is in our heads. I discovered this when trying to get a 65 and older exemption for some of our real estate taxes. I had to prove I was married. I had this rinky-dink license from the justice of the peace in Peoria, Illinois. It had God and flowers on it. Travis county wrote me a letter today and said they want a certified document. Now suppose (since this was before computers) Peoria had they failed to enter our "union" in the log book. What then?
In Texas we are married, because they have common law marriages. If A says to B that they are married, and B doesn't say that they aren't, then they are. But that won't help us, because we need to show we were married before we moved here.
Yesterday I mention that we were talking about possessions. I asked the group where does possession occur? One woman claimed in the middle of her chest. I thought it occurred in my brain. I believe something is true... like I am married and therefore I am. (I think therefore I am.)
How about hunger? I believe I'm hungry, so I am. Is that the same thing?
After I put on Facebook that I was in a complicated relationship, the woman who I thought was my wife got a message from Facebook asking if she was in a complicated relationship. I told her that she has two choices: either yes or no. Being the smarty that she is, she said, I just won't answer.
My neighbor and I joke about him, being a whiz kid, joining Mensa to pick up woman. Someone told him that's where all the cool chicks hang out. Now that my marriage is on the rocks, maybe I should buy some Mensa training manuals from Half-priced Books. Or I could wait a few days until the certified copy comes... or until I find out that such a copy does not exist.
An old colleague (colleague for many years) offered to go to Peoria to testify on our behalf. He's known the two of us almost as long as we've know each other. I'm sure that would sway the current clerks to back-date an official document.
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