The Hitchin' Post , Part 1: Love Comes To Town

If you have been following the pages here you know that I am now engaged to be married. If you’ve been following the archives you know that you are more surprised than a bartender serving a Kennedy a Diet Coke. I have never been anti-Love, I just have not really grasped how it correlates with Marriage. Until a couple years ago.

Alicia and I met through our mutual friend, vodka. Killorn was also there. Killorn and Alicia have known each other through a number of Presidencies, some of them even ASB-style. I had been unattached for a few months when I met Alicia, and Alicia had also been single. It would not have mattered, really, the timing. I would have likely charmed, bribed, led, and/or groped her away from anybody she had been dating. Something clicked. I had to be with her. To allow Killorn her chance to record some of this story as well, I will refrain from too many details of the early days. Look for that entry some time near our 4^th Wedding Anniversary. Encapsulated, Killorn introduced me to Alicia. I could not be cool. I was in Her presence.

A lot of people, since the announcement of the engagement, have asked me “To a woman?” They’ve also asked me how it all went down, because I hang out with guys who run these streets, see? And because I look around this world and see so much that can be cast in a negative light, I want to bring, instead, levity to my space of the InterWeb. The mere appearance of the words “my” and “space” probably just cost me a copyright royalty.

In MySpace… No on can hear you perv.

So here is how this all culminated. Alicia and I have been dating since late September of 2004. We went to Mexico together, if you wanna flash back to those blogs. Last year we went through the moves, her to Fremont, me to Juanita. Late in 2005 I asked her to move in with me. We tend to get along pretty well when we are awake, and I figured since she would be closer to work, I should try and collect a little help for the mortgage. And I love her. So she moved in, officially, around Decemberish. I knew that would buy me a little time.

Then things started getting really serious…
WE BOUGHT FURNITURE.

Pick your chin up, I’m serious. I wasn't kidding around. She found the style of couch she wanted, and Lord knows I needed a new one… literally, it was an old Youth Group rec-room couch. I am sure it was infused with the Lord's blessings, not to mention the echos of fumbling zippers. Anytoots, we got us a great, off-white couch and chair/ottoman set. I AM NOT AFRAID OF COMMITMENT, as long as it comes with a Warranty.

Prior to this, I had made a very key decision: To be Happy. It’s a very simple decision. Instead of waiting until I had X, Y, or Z (they are Icelandic triplets who live across the way when they aren’t modeling the latest in seamless unmentionables), I decided that I Am Happy. Instead of seeing Happiness as Contentment, and therefore, as Resignation To Mediocrity, I saw Happiness as Consistency. It is how I am, and it is to anybody’s credit if they are Happy and go toward their Best Self. Happy is the oil in your crankcase. Desire is the gas. The seats are genuine pleather.

Here I am, happy and focused, and moving forward. Alicia had been really encouraging of my comedy and writing, and not just in a way that is shouted lazily from the other room when I am off to a gig. I shared my goals with her, and we sat and devised a plan for it. I don’t understand why it involves watching her get a hot oil massage by the Florida State linebackers, but a goal is a goal. God Bless.

I wanted to marry Alicia because I love her, and because relationships take the kind of work we cooperate on. The energy I can put into my relationship with Alicia doubles when I am not dodging phone calls from wom..
When I’m focused on just US, that will go a long way. We have not compromised our independence; I still do whatever I want to when she’s not looking. She still gets her breakfast made by a smoking-hot stud in workout pants. (thank you Tyler. Next time, less tumeric in my eggs)

I wanted to do things right, so I knew I was going to have to ask Alicia’s parents for their permission, not to mention the dowry, to marry their daughter. And that’s when things started getting so good, somebody humped a camel.


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Kenneth Lay SHould Not Go To Prison

Kenneth Lay, former Enron Top-Turd and current "Legion Of Complete AssTools" Chapter President, was found guilty of wire fraud, conspiracy to commit wire fraud, and homeliness this morning. He will be sentenced at a later date.

I say "No" to the sentencing. Shouldn't have to do jail time. Nope. None.

Enron already stripped pensions of its employees. And a few million, if not hundred million, if not billions, from the Government in something that I cannot find on the internet. (ed.note, there are no returns when searching for the phrase "How much did Enron totally ream the average taxpayer's face, if not their ass, via Government bailouts?" Smells fishy.)

Now Lay is maybe going to a Federal prison, where he will get a place to sleep, a job of some sort, clean clothes, limited opportunities to meet in a conjugal manner (shudder), food, and health care. Odds are he'll write a book about his experiences as the local Chapter President of the"Greed Is My Viagra Brotherhood." Proceeds will pay for his crimes.

OR... and this is just a wild suggestion...

Ken has to get two day jobs working in the food service industry. He can't quit either of them. He uses that money to get a place to live. He has to get a roommate. He cannot drive a car, vote, or get health coverage. He starts from scratch.

OR...

He has to do the jobs the Mexican immigrants are doing in our country. Prison is supposed to be a perspective and a punishment. He should have to face the public every single day for the rest of his life. Among the everyman, the hoi polloi, those he took from with his greed.

Then again, I could be cold here as I declare some people's every day lives as a punishment.

Okay, they get to rape him. Happy now?

BANG, case closed.

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May 24th, 8:17a.m., Juanita Village

Hey... Hey lady, seriously... what are you...
Yeah, you, riding solo in the Lexus 450 MonstroLuxe. The one you're lollygagging down the middle of the parking rows while staring at the chic phone you don't know how to work.

>HONK<

Oh Hi! Now you see me. Can you move to your right a little? The Right. It's the side with the hand that you drink from all night. It's opposite the side that four men have mistakenly put rings on.

You look exasperated at my motioning to you, but I'm not really sure why you're driving down the middle of the aisle here. I understand this is a busy parking area near the Starbucks, it's packed this morning, but I'm on my way out... What are you pointing at?

>HONK<

Move your car. Now. Move it. I swear I will get out of this car and knock your window and ruin the majestic feathery wings flying from your head, you idiot. Move. Now.
What are you pointing at?

Lady, that parking spot is one of 3 that you passed, and you gotta get beyond me, first. Which, if you MOVE THE CORN TO YOUR RIGHT YOU WILL BE ABLE TO DO. If you want a staring contest, you got one. I'm not moving. I'm on my way somewhere, and you're where you need to be. You won't get in until I get out. Same thing with elevators.

You look really exasperated. This is NOTHING. Seriously, I'm trying to get to work, you're working on another divorce. The world will continue turning, and I'm sure we both are cursing each other's existence. I cannot move over any further unless I learn to manipulate solid matter with my mind, but that Whole Foods class is not until NEXT week. This one's up to you.

The guy behind you is honking now.
Now HE is motioning for you to move to your right. The spot you want is now open.
The lady behind me is honking, too. This is awesome.

Oh great, here comes a cop out of Starbucks.
Yes, PLEASE roll down your window and... you're doing it!
Are you going to talk to him?
You ARE talking to him!
He's looking at me... now back to you. Now back at me... he's nodding...

AND NOW THE COP IS TELLING YOU TO MOVE TO THE RIGHT TO PASS MY CAR.

Why isn't he reaching for the pepper spray? What the hell do I pay these guys for? GO FOR THE SPRAY, THROW DOWN WITH THE SPRAY! DROP THE HOT SAUCE ON THIS WALKING REASON FOR A PRE-NUP!

There ya go, now you're doing it. The officer is waving me through, shaking his head. I shrug, he shrugs.
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This was my first outside human interaction today.

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Blessings On The Well-Heeled Hoof

Some day, when you are engaged to be married, perhaps for the 4th time, you should be praying that you have a friend like Killorn O'Neill.

Let's all get it on the dancefloor that Killorn can sometimes bring the kind of grace to a party that can only be described as "Full Contact," both in word and into-the-curio-cabinet-cross-check. Well that was on hold last night, as the dearest Kilo-G put on an engagement party for my fiancee Alicia and me. It was as moving as it was loving as it was bubbly. In attendance were some of my closest friends and their significant others.

Mike & Lucia. Tara & Cody (Cody can cook, wow, seriously, y'all missed out). Desi & Perryn. Kim. Ali. Geoff & Tasha.

Some of the smartest, funniest, most creative, most life-loving people I've ever met. And they are my friends.

And as glasses were raised to toast the next step of the relationship Alicia and I are always building, I sat in awe of the amount of care that had gone into the table setting, the lighting, the champagne purchase. (side note, we gotta lay off the champers for a while.) Our food was perfect. The conversations were lively. The wine flowed. We poured the "beer of champagnes," and eventually got to the High Life. I thank my lucky stars for them folks.

When pressed for a date, I can drum up when I met these people. But honestly, it feels like I've known them all along. I had the spaces in my life for them and they appeared. I am very blessed.

As Alicia has been welcomed into my family, and I into hers, I have begun to see how great marriage can be. It's a cornerstone, not an anchor. It is a pillar, not an obstruction. And I know it will take a lot of work at times, like when you spend your entire gorgeous Saturday making two trips to the rockery because somebody mis-measured for the walkway.

I am surrounded by some of the best people put on this earth, and I have the dulcet brain warmth of a champagne hangover to prove it.


ADDENDUM!
Monday night's "Girl's Night, Heeeeey!" party at the HQ here had the following items to share:
Almond Flavored Sparkling Wine
M&Ms
Salad Deluxe
Roasted Veggies
Skirt Steak, post 36-hour marinade
and the phrase...
"You mean the doctors like, go UP IN YOUR HOLE?!?!"
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To Come This Week!
The Engagement Story, a.k.a. Lord Of The Rings, With Cheese!
Comic's Trip: My Travelog
Recipes For Disaster: Something to Try Out At Work
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