Ten years ago today, I was frantically putting the finishing touches on my wedding cake. And maybe my wedding dress. Or more likely, I was frantically cooking, which is what I do when I am stressed, and also preparing for the sumptuous party spread that I used to put on back then.

Everyone thought they were simply coming to a new year’s eve party. No one guessed of the cake hidden away upstairs, or that my Empire style red velvet frock was in honour of anything other than the new year. We stopped at five to midnight and our friend John from Boston performed the ceremony. Everyone was surprised. Greg’s wedding vows quoted Cartman from South Park. It was the perfect wedding – no gifts, no shower, no puffy marshmallow dress. Just us and our friends and a promise.

Ten years later, we’re still together and going strong. There’s been sickness and health, riches and poverty, good times and bad. I annoy him with my control-freak, perfectionist tendencies, and he frustrates me with his pokey old man ways and inability to hold a conversation first thing in the morning.

Of course, there have been changes and challenges. We’re very different people than we were back in 1997 – with different styles, and different interests. We survived and grew strong from our struggles and upheavals. We’ve mellowed and relaxed. Matured, hopefully, learning to lean on each other for support.

Together we’ve published a zine, produced some memorable concerts and events, ran a record label, and now a respected website about food in Toronto, with another exciting project in the works. Yeah, we argue – who doesn’t? Yes, sometimes it’s a struggle. But through it all, Greg is still my best friend. And more importantly, my partner in the truest sense of the word. We get each other. We love each other. I enjoy his company more than that of anybody else.

The one mistake we made in choosing new year’s eve as our wedding day is that it’s also our anniversary, and going out to celebrate is a nightmare. So although this is a big one, with a whole decade under our belts, we’ll celebrate in the same way we always do; with some Indian take-out, a couple of movies and a nice bottle of beer. This year, it’s a 4-year-old bottle of chocolate stout that we’ve been saving especially for tonight. I have expectations of it being rich and gorgeous, just as I do for the decades to come.