A funny thing happened on the way to Wednesday...

I was contemplating the meaning of existence this morning (as I am want to do) when a thought struck me. A thought only relevant to a few people, but a thought that shook me. It was a simple phrase I could not remember uttering. A simple phrase there was no previous reason to utter...

The Musick Household

I have used the phrase "The Musick Estate" before. But that phrase referred to a structure. A grand home reminiscent of those of the antebellum south or the colonial period. A great house surrounded by land.

But that structure, no matter how grandiose can not hold a candle to the Musick household. It is something I hadn't considered before. Not truly. I asked a woman to marry me based solely on my desire to spend the rest of my life with her... to grow old with her... to wake up next to her again and again and again. The idea of family only extended so far. I thought of Liz as joining the family but not necessarily my family. I never really thought of "my family".

Part of that is the definition of family I usually lock in to. I was not meant to have children. The pitter patter of little feet is not a draw, nor are 3 AM feedings, colic, soccer practice, broken lamps, or having someone yell "I hate you" at either myself or the woman I love.

But a family isn't about 2.5 kids. It is a connection between people. It is a manifestation of the word "love". I am starting a family. I have met a woman and offered her my name. It is something I didn't think I would do. I wasn't against it, I simply didn't think of it as something you would plan. Planning to fall in love still seems silly to me. It would be like planning on winning the lottery. But just like winning the lottery, it does happen and you then decide what to do about it.

I chose to run with it and on September 25, 2010 I will stand by her and proclaim to the world at large that she and I are now members of the same family. I can't wait.

Remembering I'm human...

I just thought to myself "What do you know at that age?". Earlier while watching my co-workers ogle an issue of Esquire, I thought "Married guys" along with a few other things.

The truth be told, there are 15-year-olds that could teach me a thing or two and 50-year-olds that have no grasp of reality. The ogling and sexual repression I associate with it has nothing to do with marital status.

I come with my own stereotypes. The best I can do is recognize them. I find most Americans repressed. I don't know enough residents of other countries to have a decent opinion. However, I do generally think that Europeans have a more comfortable relationship with sexuality. This opinion is based on very little.

I generally think that 50 year old white men are responsible for most of the ills of our world. I have an image of "soccer mom" in my head but have never met a person fitting that description.

I am 33 years old. I own and wear mesh. I sew. I sit behind a desk all day. I'm going to Burning Man for the second time. I just got engaged. I may buy a house if I find the right one. I play video games. I play not-so-video games. I despise being labeled or pigeon-holed but claim the word "geek" as a badge of honor.If I really don't fit into any box, why should I think anyone else does.

I am getting married. I am not "taking the plunge". I do not plan to "stop doing x or y" after I do. I do not plan to "start doing x or y" after I do.

I have been a grown-up for some time. That had nothing to do with my age. It has nothing to with how often I have sex or go to parties. I now look forward to joining forces with an amazing girl to redefine what being engaged entails followed shortly by redefining what being married entails.

I just have to remember that there a lot of people doing likewise.

Because I'm in love...

It seems funny to me that in a given situation characteristics will emerge that you didn't expect. On Monday, July 13th I asked Elizabeth Anne Pierce to marry me. I had originally planned on asking her in September, but once I had the ring, I couldn't wait. I couldn't risk her seeing it beforehand. I couldn't risk it getting lost. I couldn't trust to the playa behaving. And so I went down the list of contingencies until I reached one that worked. I can't say I always have a backup plan, but in this case I had a dozen.

In the end, there's only one thing that matters. She said "Yes". I didn't have a contingency plan for that.

I now find that I'm a much stranger creature than I had originally thought. I find myself unable to even describe what's happening. I find the abstract ideas I had seeking manifestation. I generally only thought of weddings while at them. I have more ideas about the music than about the location, guest list, or bridal party.

I found myself torn between having a simple joining of hands in the woods and demanding that the gods kneel before us. It was this simple dichotomy that made it difficult to find an engagement ring. Putting the sun on Liz's finger was just impractical as was mining a stone myself.

I find, however, that I'm still me. There is no question that so infuriates me as "What were you looking to spend?" I'm asking a woman to spend the rest of her life with me. I'll spend the gross national product if I find a ring that works.

There were some limiting factors... I was not going to give my baby something I saw as tainted. I couldn't bring myself to buy a yellow diamond. I did take into consideration whether or not Liz could wear it without her arm getting tired.

I will have to see where the technology is in 10 years. I'm thinking an anniversary band the size of Cleveland. I hope the labs can make one by then.