So here's what married life is like.

It's very, very good.

The joke I tell everyone who asks "How's married life?" (and everyone asks) is that if I had known beforehand how great being married was, I would have done it a lot sooner. And it's the truth - sort of. I mean, cosmically and blah-de-blah blah, Jason and I met at the right time, married at the right time, and are starting a life together at the right time. But I wonder sometimes why this happiness was withheld from me for so long - why I had to struggle through an awkward, geeky childhood, failed and depressing relationships, and really bad karma in general to get to this happy place. All that must meaned I've earned it. But was all that really necessary?

We'll probably begin house hunting around Christmas or so. Jason's project manager took him aside last week and basically told him they're planning to hire him, and the offer letter should be in his hands in the next couple weeks or so. He's discreetly looking around at what others in similar positions are making, because we think their initial offer is a little low. Either way, it's good money and will come in handy when we have a mortgage to pay. Especially since, while my job is great, it won't be terribly lucrative for a while.

No babies for two years or as long as we can avoid it, whichever comes first.

I like looking at Jason's hand. Specifically, I like looking at the ring on Jason's hand. It's just a plain platinum band, like mine, and we've already both scratched them up nicely. But oh what that ring symbolizes. My eternal love and commitment to him, and his to me. Our lifelong partnership, forged in precious metal.

We went to Durango last weekend to celebrate Jason's granparents' 60th wedding anniversary. Jason's grandmother is almost completely blind thanks to macular degeneration, and his grandfather speaks haltingly. But they're both kind and quick-witted, and at the end of the party in their honor, they said to those assembled, "See you in 10 years." I want Jason and I to make to 60, and to 70, and as far as we can go before we're both coughing up blood and peeing into a tube as we breath our last. Romantic vision, I know, but I can't imaging being married to anyone else, and I can't imagine not being married to him.

Next week: The joys of flatulence, and sharing them with your spouse.