Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversary, Haaaaaaaaaaappy Anniversary!

* Due to the fragility of the human ego, I have tried to be very careful about how I worded certain things that I have written about my relationships in this entry. I tend to sound flippant, which I believe that the parties spoken about are aware of, so to those mentioned: assume the best and deny the worst. I mean no slight or other harm. Although, now that I look this entry over, I don't see anything wrong with what I've written, especially since it is the quickest of overviews, but I have decided to keep this disclaimer, because I like the look of disclaimers, even if I usually despise their use.

Today is mine and the Fiery One's third wedding anniversary! Of course, his being away in Australia is impeding our ability to fully celebrate this day in any kind of intimate fashion, so we are saving up our energies for when he returns and after he recovers from the fifteen-and-a-half hour time difference. I thought that maybe I would be a little sad to find myself alone on our anniversary, because even though I have never been one to give much of a fuck about specific dates, I feel compelled to honour my time spent with the Fiery One. Surprisingly, I don't feel sad at all. We talked on the phone at 7:00 this morning, and I have been happier than usual ever since. I am just so grateful to whatever powers there may be that might govern things like this that would allow for such a thing to happen that it would seem stupid to mope around, even if he's not here. (I'm so sorry for that ridiculous sentence). His absence, though, left me at a bit of a loss regarding what to do to mark this anniversary, until I thought "aha! I'll write about it on the weblog and torture people with the sweetness". And so, without further adieu, the following is an extremely brief rundown of how long it took the Fiery One and I to finally get together.
In July, it will be eleven years since we first met. We met back when I still lived in Cosmopolis. I had met Starcat not all that long before, and we became a trio of sorts, spending long summer afternoons smoking cigarettes and consuming large quantities of coffee in a local café. That was an extremely tumultuous period in my life. I was twenty years old, had fallen in love with a man (one quite aside from the Fiery One or Starcat), had quickly become engaged to him, and was completely losing my shit over it. I was so not ready to be talking marriage and kids and houses and whatnot. Psychologically, I think I was shopping around, feeling out the terrain. I was in engagement denial. Really, looking back, I was no shining example of moral or ethical uprightness. I have to admit that I was scoping out both the Fiery One and Starcat. The Fiery One was moving shortly to a city seven hours away, so my affections settled on Starcat. Starcat and I struck up a torrid love affair that broke up my engagement and plunged us into a passionate three-year relationship that nearly left us the parents of triplets living under the welfare state. Luckily, mine and Starcat's friendship has seen us through, there are no triplets, and we are both now gainfully employed. The Fiery One moved elsewhere, and we kept in touch, hanging out every few months when he passed through town. Every time he came through, I would try to keep him all to myself and would spend the whole day leading up to his arrival feeling giddy. He and I would sit over a pitcher or two of draft playing Scrabble and babbling away for hours, and the rest of the world would melt away. Was I too stupid to notice that those feelings might have meant something? Oh, yes. I had no idea that I was so twitterpated, and it took me years to figure it out - after the three years that Starcat and I spent together, it took me another four years. I don't even have the excuse that I was too busy with other relationships, because during that four-year period I only dated one guy for four months and it was the lamest of lame relationships.
In August it will be four years since we first started dating. About ten months before that, in October of 1999 (christ, that's ages ago now), I started thinking about the Fiery One. I hadn't seen him in a while, but he was suddenly at the forefront of my mind. It had taken me years to realize it, but I was crazy about him. By this time, he had moved to another city that was only three hours away, which made dating him seem a little more realistic, but I had a feeling that he was probably involved with someone quite seriously. This feeling was based on nothing more than intuition, but the sense was so strong, and it crushed me. I didn't want to find out if I was right, because that would hurt too much, but finally I just had to know. I called his mother at Christmastime when I was sure he would be home visiting and asked for him. His mother told me that "they" had just left. I knew exactly what that meant, and I was devastated. From that point on, I tried not to think of the Fiery One, but in June or July of 2000, I caved. I had to contact him. There was no way that I was going to avoid him for the rest of my life, because I valued him too much to forget about him. I called him up and asked if I could spend part of my vacation with him in his city, Cityville. I honestly don't know what made me think that I could call him up after all those months and ask if I could stay at his house for a week when I thought there was a significant other around. It was pure instinct. When I arrived in Cityville, I kept casting my eyes around his house, trying to find clues that a woman was around somewhere, but there wasn't one. Finally, I asked him if he had been seeing anyone, and he told me that he had been, that there had been an engagement, and that it had just ended recently. It was the first real confirmation that I'd had that he had been involved with someone seriously, but it was over! I was, and I'm not kidding, over the moon. We hooked up the next day, and I instantly fell madly in love. Ten months later, I moved down to Cityville and we were married.
Today means that we have been married for three whole years, and somehow it feels both like the time I have been with the Fiery One has flown by and like I have spent my whole life with him. He is so far away in Australia right now that if he tried to go any farther away he would be coming home, but the spirit of this day is not dampened in the least. My life has never been more full. I love you, Mr. One.
There. See? I didn't go on and on about icky sweet stuff. I could, you know, go on and on. I could go on and on and on about how cute his face looks all squishy after a nap or his goofy shuffle-dancing or how I like to pause for just a second sometimes when I lean in to kiss him just so I can look at him with his eyes all squeezed shut and his lips puckered up, but I won't do that. No. That wouldn't be right.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME AND MR. ONE! HOORAY!

Ms. Smartypants linked to one of Mr. Chick’s comics in her last entry to date, so I thought I would take a look around his site, as it had been a long time since I’d thought to go there. Yikes. And more yikes.

The Book of Zines has some mighty fine nooks and crannies.

The United States is planning to pull one-third of its 37,000 troops stationed in South Korea out of the country. It looks like it may not be such great time for South Korea to have the U.S. downgrade its three-decade long military presence.

A spokeswoman for Seasonale said: “When you think about what women have accomplished with 13 periods a year, [think] about what we can accomplish with only four. We have come a long way, but we've only just begun.” We are only now starting to realize what some of the long-term health effects of the Pill might be, so Seasonale worries me. Also, aside from the possible health effects, unless you have a serious medical condition, what woman uses her period as an excuse not to get ahead? After all this time, women’s bodies are still seen negative, out of control, and excuses for our less desirable behaviours. It’s ridiculous.

The late ex-president of the United States, Ronald Reagan, is much more popular in death than he ever was in office.

And, last but not least, I still love this song after all these years: "Love Will Tear Us Apart" by Joy Division.