730 and Counting

Today, Thursday, is not significant other than the fact it's another day, and if you're reading this you're alive. So you have something to be happy about.

Friday will not be significant, other than the fact that it will mark the end of the work week for most of us.

Saturday is a toss-up.

Now Sunday is special. And while I could wait till then to write what I'm about to, I have no intention of being on my computer on Sunday. So you get my soliloquy a few days early.

Sunday will mark two years since Mrs. B and I said "I do" - or was it "I will?" - to one another on the alter at St. Mark's Church on Brewer's Hill, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

And my thoughts on marriage haven't changed much from a year ago. A year ago I was stoked but shocked that we had made it 12 months - not because I doubted that either of us loved the other very much, but because we just hadn't realized how greatly our lives would change once we became responsible for another human being. We had a lot to learn - still do. Lots of laughs, a few frowns, a few tears, more laughs, and some all-around wisening. It didn't kill us and we're stronger.

I'm still in awe of the fact that someone agreed to marry me. Seriously, that still unnerves me. Ask my friends - especially my female friends, and they'll tell you I am the absent-minded professor. Forgetful isn't cute, I'm told.

I'm still learning to share my space. I love Mrs. B. And I love our dog. And I'm friendly with our cat. But there are times I still want to wake up on Saturday morning and roll over in bed and watch cartoons and not get going till noon or so. Really, I'd like to do that everyday. Well, even without kids yet, there's still just too much to do. No time for so much lounging. Same goes for me just jumping in the car and taking a random drive to think and soak up the quiet and ambiance. Or spending five hours on the basketball court on Sunday afternoon. Can't do these things quite as much. And that's OK. We have stuff we do together now that's more enjoyable than pretty much anything I'd do alone. Get your minds out of the gutter. Again, my friends will tell you that I was the ultimate single guy in terms of my space. When I lived in Milwaukee, before I started dating Mrs. B, if a major holiday rolled around and I was unable to get home to Virginia for it, I was perfectly content ordering a pizza, buying a six-pack, renting a couple of good movies, and spending the holiday weekend, stretched over my couch...alone. I was House, MD, but not quite as sharp-tongued or sharp-witted. I'd let the friends drag me out for holiday celebrations, but most of the time it was grudging. So when I found someone I realized I would like to share my space with it was an awkward transition. I have those flashes of single-envy, where time is concerned. But I wouldn't trade w/any of my single friends.

I'm still thrilled that Mrs. B - the Bonnie to my Clyde - and I silenced the haters (salty friends, jealous former friends, ex-girlfriends, and all-purpose bitter people who predicted I wasn't cut out for marriage and we wouldn't last). Where are you cats now? Mmmmm, taste the silence!

If I've learned anything new since the conclusion of year-one, it's that she knows me better than I ever thought possible in such a short period of time, that I love her now more than I did "back then," and that we work best when we "riff" off of one another and compliment through action each other's strengths and weaknesses - sort of a symbiotic thing.

Now, from what the veterans tell me, two years means we've just been broken in like a new car.

Here's to 40 or 50 or 60 more.

I'll post tomorrow some time. But this one? This couldn't wait till Sunday.

Peace and hair grease, my friends.