Sorry, ladies! Too late.

"Engaged."

(This is how geeks announce they're going to get hitched. And yes, we're geeks.)

It's true. Apologies to anyone who should have had a phone call or an email of their very own, and instead is seeing this here, but the word must get out. After roughly three years together, including that year where I lived out east and she stayed here, and it was kind of "meh" in some ways, Teslagrl and I have reached that sweet spot where even when it's kind of "meh," it's pretty damn good. Ergo, when it's awesome, it's the sort of thing that makes your friends tired of hearing about how wonderful things are. Or would, if you were the sort to go on and on about that sort of thing. Anyway. [Awkward, nervous Nordic mumble mumble trail-off...]

Basically, what it came down to was a few key poetic ideas, presented here in no particular order. First is that while out East, my 20something classmates were sometimes a little fascinated with the idea that I had been married and everything, in my earlier life. Maybe because I had been married for a while already at their age, maybe because I'd be divorced at an age that's not so far in their futures. Maybe because I bitched and complained about the long-distance part of my long-distance relationship (though, it should be duly noted, I bitched much, much less about the relationship part).

Once, while a pack of us were on the way to the Price Chopper for, I dunno, snacks and beer (I know! You can get beer in the supermarket there! It's heaven), I was asked if I'd "ever get married again." I think this was a more general question, and was not an inquiry about me and T-grl. I answered, spontaneously and truthfully, sure I would. But I admitted my ideas about the whole thing had changed, what with the soul-crushing upheval, the bitterness and recrimination, and the tedious and unfortunate little matter of the bill. Ahem.

I said that I would get married again if the thought of not being legally bound to my certain someone struck me as the thing that was ridiculous, unnecessary, and entirely avoidable. And, eventually, here we are.

The second thing was thinking about how it had been 37 months together, and we'll be 37 this year, and as much as I don't want to grow up, I think being with her is a lovely compromise, because I won't ever really have to. It's been three years plus, and it still feels like we're just hanging out, just seeing where things go. This is the most bullshit-free, easygoing, just plain fun relationship ever, for me. I have grown accustomed to the cognitive dissonance, but it hasn't gone away: it is literally true that it doesn't feel like we've been together this long. So that's cool.

There were a ton of little things that a superstitious person would take for signs. In a booze-soaked chat with Jon some time ago, I expressed admiration for what he and Diablo have; he said that Teslagrl and I have it too. And he's right! More recently, I met Amber for beers, and when she asked me about Teslagrl, the first words out of my mouth were that "she's awesome." Amber thought that was very cool, and pointed it out. On reflection, I agreed. I went over to hang with M. Giant and almost immediately, M. Small asked where T-grl was. It seems that to him, we're a matched set... and he's easily in the top 5 smartest pants-poopers I've ever known. I'd be a fool not to consider the wisdom of what he implies.

And finally, there's the idea that because I have, shall we say, made ample use of the student loan resources available to me, I am essentially borrowing money from my future self. The medicine-practicing, comfortable-living one. And this isn't a new concept for me; I knew the first time around that the 1997 me would be borrowing from the 2007 me. Now that I am that dude, speaking as 2007 Feb, I find it kind of amusing that somebody would come to me for cash. (But then, hey, 1997 Feb deserves a giant break, because his life was pretty messed up.) Long story short, if there is anything really great that 2007 Feb can do for future-Feb, it would be this. Now he can be the medicine-practicing, comfortable-living, hot-wife-having one.

Note to self: You're welcome.