Three years ago today ...

At this moment three years ago, I watched my mom grit her teeth a lot, threw on a heavy satin dress (who knew fabric could weigh so much?!), walked down the aisle past hundreds of people ... and got married.

Happy anniversary to me and Paul. Three years. Wow.

Hmm, how to recap three crazy years? Well, I had a nine-month stint at B&N while Paul slaved away in bioanalysis at Eurofins. He left for grad school; I left for editing. We moved three times (house -> suburban apartment -> urban apartment -> same house), living out of boxes and never getting too comfortable in one place. I spent the whole time doped up on (at various times) Zoloft, BuSpar, Celexa, EffexorXR, Klonopin and Lamictal; he swore off headmeds after Zoloft discontinuation syndrome.

We've spent way too much time surfing the Internet, playing video games and traveling to LANs -- Nashville, St. Louis (3 times), Cincinatti, Los Angeles and right here at home in October. We've met so many crazy mofos that I don't even know where to begin. And through it all I've learned a heckuva lot, like marriages are a little work and a lot of fun. And that even after eight years as a couple, you don't know everything about a person. And that when you stumble into the bathroom in the dark at 3 a.m., it's a good idea to check whether the toilet seat is up.

Anyway, I'm still madly in love, still feel like a newlywed ... and still need to take back three of the four George Foreman grills I received as wedding gifts. (Note to self: Buy a George Foreman USB iGrill with money from returned gifts.) So, happy anniversary, honey. You're crazy for having stuck it out this long, and I love ya for it.

P.S. The pic -- which I shamelessly stole from JR&R -- is of Fuzz suckerpunching my little-bro-in-law. It was a beautiful moment.

P.P.S. Matt's stuck elsewhere ... and I don't really want to go to the concert alone. Amazingly, he has a way of talking me down better than almost anyone, so I'm not mad anymore. I'm not even panicky anymore. But I would like a diversion from the empty house. Anyway, I'd already scheduled Friday off work. I'm sure I could change it ... but part of me just wants to go somewhere, dammit. Already looked at flights to Toronto and L.A., but realized I'd probably just stay there and not come home (in all seriousness), and that might piss off my hubby and my boss. Maybe I'll just hop in the Vue with the iPod and a full tank of gas and see where I end up.

P.P.P.S. Totally off topic, but I had to share the press release that crossed my desk this morning: "Suck and Blow:...First Interactive Alcoholic Beverage; This Ain't Your Father's Martini."

::sigh:: Why do I get the feeling I'll get more comments on my last two postscripts than on my post itself?