I really wanted to write some long, drawn-out, Diarist Award-winning entry about yesterday and what it means to my future and the future of my marriage... But as you can tell by viewing my archives, I'm just don't have many those left in me.

Yesterday's big event? A month and a half after getting married, Jessie finally moved in for good. After making two 180-mile round trips in as many days, we packed up the last of her stuff, turned in her keys and made the trip home.

She'd lived in her old apartment more than six years -- almost as long as I've been writing online. It's been her base of operations and my place of refuge through a lot of eras in our lives individually and collectively. I have a feeling that this is where this whole marriage thing will get interesting.

So, it dawned on me that I haven't made a public post -- or even a friends-only one for that matter -- since November 28th. Don't I suck?

Seriously, people... This isn't because I don't like you or because I don't want to tell you my secrets. Trust me, I do. But I've spent 93.4% of my time either at work or in The Land With No Internet. That puts a major cramp on any LJ updating desires. Sure, there is the voice post option, which I really should utilize more often... But I really like to plop my ass in front of an old-fashioned monitor in peace & quiet or country music -- whichever fits the mood -- and do my thing keyboard style.

Between the holidays and trying to get Jessie packed up to ditch her ghetto apartment before the end of the month, I've spent waaaay more post-wedding hours here in The Hometown than I have at my real home in Franklin. And, as you've heard me lament several times before, Internet just isn't a standard feature in The Hometown. My mom doesn't have it unless my brother is home with his laptop so we can steal wireless access from the neighbors. Jessie, who teaches computer information systems, doesn't work at her apartment and does not have access. Jessie's parents have dial-up that I refuse to attempt to use. So, I'm left here... With all of these thoughts and no LJ to spread them out with.

Let's all join in with a collective "Aarrrrgggghhhh!"

Thank you. I feel better. Don't you?

Nine days, twenty-one hours, ten minutes and a handful of seconds.
Well, I've got Brittany Spears & Jason Allen Alexander beat.

The honeymoon is wrapped up. Thanksgiving is over. But I still have not returned to reality. I'm crashing at Jessie's apartment in our hometown until I drive home and go back to work Friday morning. The upside of that is that I get to do a whole lot of nothing and spend time with my wife. The downside is that we're in the Internet dark ages here. Neither Jessie or my mom has online access at home... So my only option is to show up at Jessie's office and hijack her computer when she's in class (which I'm doing now).

There are stories to tell... Photos to share... And I promise that they are all coming as soon as I return to a place where household Internet is a common luxury. After that, I'll reply to comments and I might even start reading my friends page again. (If anything has happened in the last two weeks worth reading, please let me know so I can catch up.)

This is a public post to confirm what I had already announced in my friends-only voice post... As of Saturday evening, I am a married man. Everything went off without major incident and the shackle of oppression has been place on my left ring finger. Heh.

We've been home from the honeymoon for a couple of hours now. Of course, you can't consider the Thanksgiving holidays a return to normalcy... but it will be fun to do the holidays as married folk. I have several memory cards full of pics that I'll share soon enough.

Happy Turkey Day. I hope you have something to be thankful for. I know I do.

The older I get, the harder it is to define my particular brand of religion. However, when in need of a label, I consider myself Presbyterian because that's where I've spent most of my formative years... But my roots are a bit more diverse.

Growing up, we did the Presbyterian thing to follow my mom's family. Her dad had been raised Lutheran, but found there to be a shortage of churches in our part of the world and figured being a Presbyterian would be almost as good. On the other side, my dad's mom actually preached back in the day in a small country church and my dad's brother grew up to be a big shot in the Church of God. So, I guess it's no wonder that I'm a Presbyterian marrying a Baptist at her church in a service led by a Methodist minister.

The minister was my choice. Jessie got to pick her church as the venue, so I got dibs on choosing our preacher man. I went back in the time machine to do so.

In the early 1990s, I was spending most of my weekends at my mom's mother's house in a very small Delta town. Did I mention that it was very small? Our weekly attendance at the Presbyterian Church usually hovered around 10. I'm guessing that to an outsider, ours looked very much like a lost cause... But, to this day, I thikn there is something to be said for worshiping in small numbers.

It came to pass in those days that we found ourselves without a regular minister. And, fortunatley for us, there happened to be an unemployed Methodist minister in the next town over. After coming to the conclusion that the Methodists' God and the Presbyterians' God were the same one, we offered him a job. To this day, his sermons are the best I've ever heard.

From the pulpit, he was never bossy or preachy. His messages were always conversational. If you weren't careful, you'd listen to him long enough and start to think he was talking directly to you. Almost every sermon began with a joke. The joke led him into a story that he would take apart, explain what each part did and what it meant before putting it all back together again in the end for you to understand.

When it came time to get a wedding minister, I knew he was our guy.

Even though it had been more than a decade since I'd last seen him preach a sermon, we tracked him down shortly after Jessie & I were engaged. After catching up with him and explaining the Cliff's Notes version of the Fletch/Jessie saga of more than 11 years, he said that he didn't need to counsel us. If after such a long friendship, the two of us wanted to be married, he'd be happy to do the service. He marked November 18 on his calendar. We wrote him down on ours.

Fast forward to June, when many Methodist ministers do a shuffle or sorts and get moved from one church to another. You guessed it -- our guy was relocated to a different church. What complicated matters was that many of the church staff left when he did. So, when we called to firm up details later in the year, not only was our guy not preaching at this church anymore, no one knew where he'd gone. None of the phone number we had for him worked. We had lost our preacher.

As it turns out, he wasn't lost for long -- only a few days. Of course, a few days without a preacher is enough to hiccup wedding prep just slightly. For the record, I was never worried... But I enjoyed telling people that we had lost our preacher. It adds color to the engagement story.

Sunday, Jessie and I drove an hour and a half to the small-town church where now preaches. The sermon was exactly as I remembered from many years prior... The conversation format... The simple explanation of a complex message. After one service, Jessie agreed with me that his was the benchmark by which most ministers should be measured.

We spent Sunday afternoon hashing out the details of the ceremony. To be honest, I didn't realize exactly how much was involved from the preacher's standpoint. I thought he'd show up, ask if we would, listen to us tell him that we do and move on. However, there are prayers and blessings and a script, of sorts, even. Although it's obvious that with every passing day, the wedding has seemed more real to me... Hearing the preacher read the vows we'd take -- using Fletch and Jessie with those words -- made it very real... Goosebumps reals.

About a week or so ago, I woke up in my bunk at work with a very anxious feeling. In my deep sleep only moments before, I'd been having thoughts of my wedding. It wasn't a dream with a full storyline, but instead quick flashes of images of me at the alter.

There was no haze or gap between asleep and awake. In the time it takes to snap your fingers, I was very awake and very scared. There was a heavy weight on my chest and a shaky feeling throughout my whole body. For a brief moment, I was convinced that the world might just end if I went through with the wedding.

Yeah, I know. You'll never hear the kids telling that tale on "A Wedding Story."

The good news is that I hadn't felt that way before that morning and I haven't felt that way since, either. I'm not really sure what brought on those feelings in my sub-conscience, but if I had to put money on it, I'd bet on Alex.

As you know, we haven't spoken since December of last year. As you also know, she is one of probably only two women that I have ever really loved. Not talking to her this year has been the absolute best thing for me... It's also been the absolute worst.

For several weeks last month, every day brought a debate to my head whether or not to call Alex. A huge chunk of me knew that the silence hadn't betrayed me so far, so why chance things? The other part of me knew that this was a person of immense importance to me... and that I was leaving her out of one of my biggest days. I swayed back and forth between sides so much that it literally made me sick.

I passed within a few hundred yards of her house on my way to south Louisiana last weekend. I thought about taking that exit off the Interstate. I thought about what I might say to her. I wondered how I would explain the last 11 months. I went so far as to compose a text message to her.

Alex had been the one that put the idea of not drinking Cokes into my head. I thought it only appropriate to let her know that I'd made it a full year without one. I typed out the message. I pulled up her number from my contacts. I clicked on "save draft."

For as much as it hurt me inside to want to talk to her, I had no idea how the conversation might go... And I was too chicken to find out. I could see her upset with the silence -- hurt that we'd come together so passionately last year to split into completely opposite directions. I could see where she'd be pissed that things developed with Jessie so quickly after they had ended with her. I could see her pissed that Jessie is "getting her shot" and I denied Alex hers.

Of course, I won't lie. I was also afraid that she wouldn't care. Maybe 11 months without Fletch was enough to prove that she didn't need me in her life -- in any form -- any longer. Maybe I'd find out that she didn't miss me the way I've been missing her. I remember a time in college when her heart wanted to be with me and her mind refused it the chance... She tried so hard -- and unsuccessfully -- to dismiss me. I could hear that tone in her voice come back from the dead to tell me once and for all that she didn't need me.

I know I've thought about this way too much. I know that I just should have called her up long ago and let us make peace. I'm not sure it will ever get easier to do. The longer I wait only adds time between us. And if I think it's hard to explain being engaged to a former lover, it's probably harder to explain being married.

The bottom line is that I wish she were in that church on Saturday... No, not as my bride, but as my friend. For as more time passes without us talking, I think it will be her friendship that I will miss more than any romantic moment.

It's hot outside. The air conditioner is running. Every light is off in the house. The only light in the apartment is filter through the blinds on the patio door. Up until a few minutes ago, both Jessie and the cat were sound asleep. This is what a Sunday afternoon is supposed to look like. And to think... In just a few months, this will be my family.

The antsiness (Is that a word? Is now.) displayed in my previous entry was about to come to a head as it was long past time for Jessie to eat lunch and I didn't want to go anywhere until something -- anything -- was done off my to-do list. Finally, I asked her if there wasn't something that she could fix here at my apartment. That wasn't exactly a realistic request. Outside of pork-and-beans and PB&J, my pantry is often bare.

However, as I kept knocking out overdue projects, she disappeared into the kitchen. A bit later, we sat down to fried chicken breasts, rice & gravy, beans and bread. It was a Sunday feast, for sure, and it all came from my kitchen. That's some sort of miracle, I think. With the meal -- and the shorter to-do list -- a calm came over the day. It's relaxing now. I can rest a bit. Life is, for just a short moment, as it should be.

Where is the best resource for home-buying information. Jessie & I are sort of looking at things and it's all so overwhelming. I know it's supposed to be overwhelming, but there's gotta be a place out there that makes everything makes some sort of sense. Please tell me I'm right. Show me the light.

I
Today was day número uno of orientation at the Ambulance Authority. They took a hideous ID photo of me -- no shit, the picture added 10 pounds and a case of rosacea that I don't have.

The day was pretty good as far as first days of orientation classes go. The CEO came to speak to us for two solid hours. I like some of his philosophies. I wanted to hear what he had to say. But I had to pee -- the entire time. I'm no good at sitting still for two hours under any circumstance... so, the piss pains didn't help that in the least.

We started at 0800 this morning and I was under the assumption that we'd continue to start at 0800 the rest of the time. We were told as we were walking out the door that all future sessions would start at 0700. Considering that I don't get off work Wednesday morning until 0700 and my fire station and the AA are 30 minutes apart (not considering rush hour)... it looks like I'll be begging for leniency on day two. I'm off to a good start. Heh.

II
I'm officially a man of the 21st century. There are certain technological advancements that I can not live without. Tonight, I realized that two of these are cable TV and Internet. Perhaps having both my Internet and television provided by Comcast isn't such a good idea. Because we were dead in the water for more than five hours tonight. I don't do well with idle time. Either I need to click channels -- rarely watching anything in particular, mind you -- or be able to instantly search random shit the moment it pops into my head. To do without both? Well, I broke out my High Fidelity DVD. It's always a good emotional trip. It makes me miss all of my old loves and appreciate Jessie more all at the same time.

III
It's now time to collect some clothes for the next two days and hit the sack -- it's going to be a busy next few days. I'll be at the AA by 0700 in the morning, leave there and head to the firehouse, leave there Wednesday morning for another day at the AA and Jessie comes to visit Wednesday night. I'm looking forward to her return.

I'm not sure how much you notice in these entries as so much is left out -- accidentally or otherwise. In case you didn't notice, I have two distinct personalities when it comes to Jessie.

There's the Fletch that doesn't need a significant other. He's a guy that's independent and enjoys the company of women -- but perhaps not just one. He does his own thing. He's a puzzle piece, but the finished puzzle is only a picture of him. The other Fletch needs that someone else. He sees reminders of a happy memory and feels lonely. He still wants to be the star, but he wants to be part of a team. He's still a puzzle, for sure, but the finished product is something bigger than himself. Lately, I've been the latter. That's a good thing. (Even if my analogies are not.)

I just walked back into my apartment. The pillows from the sofa are still piled in the middle of the floor. They are where I propped up to watch The West Wing with Jessie lying against me. The pizza box -- Pizza Hut makes for good West Wing dinner -- isn't far away. None of the pieces that make up my apartment are different than they were just minutes ago... Yet the place is empty. With the weekend over and another Monday on the horizon, Jessie has gone back to her world and left me in mine. I don't like it here without her. For as much as I double-check in my mind the decision to be married, I do know that I don't like it here without her. That has to mean something... Perhaps everything.

My mind had been made up. The ring had been purchased. Parents had been notified and had given their blessings. The only thing left me to do was to propose -- and that couldn't happen soon enough. Although I knew that we'd waited decades to get to this point, the mere thought of a few days' wait was almost more than I could bear.

Jessie had planned to visit Franklin the following weekend, so the plan was to propose on Sunday, January 22. The six days between getting the final blessing of her parents and the scheduled time for bended knee were long. Patience is not always a virtue that I possess.

After Googling for proposal ideas and reading absolutely every dumb and cheesy idea out there, I came up with one on my own. There is a quiet, secluded and practically secret park just inside the Lakeland city limits along the river. There is a beautiful canopy of trees that covers the property, a pond with a few resident ducks and a house up on a hill overlooking it all. Jessie & I had been there once before and enjoyed our visit. I thought it'd be the perfect place. Of course, I couldn't just settle for a proposal.

In honor of Jessie's mom's quote, I launched "Operation: It's About Time."

I made plans with her parents and my mom for them to drive up for the event. I gave them directions to a spot just down the road from the park and the plan was for them to drive in just after everything went down. Although I think I caught a raised eyebrow at first from Jessie's mom, all three parents were on board. That was the important thing. I figured that I could get Jessie out there without a problem. As it turns out, we had a couple of obstacles on the radar -- one of which really was on the radar. On the day that I wanted to propose, nature decided to monsoon. The other was even harder to control -- my little brother.

Little Brother had driven down for the weekend to go out with us to a concert Saturday night. He stuck around on Sunday to get help from Jessie & I on his resume. How long can it take to beat out a resume? Well, enough time that he nearly had to be dragged out of the apartment shortly before the 4 p.m. engagement deadline without telling him the secret or letting Jessie figure out that something was up.

With the brother finally gone, I made up some lame excuse for us to drive out towards Lakeland. Once we got there, I made up another for us to detour down the road with the park. As Jessie told others the story later, these things were not suspicious. I'm prone to have mini-missions that take me to a variety of places for reasons that normal folks might find strange. After driving up the tree-covered path to the house, I suggested that we get out and check things out in the rain. The house has a long back-porch that would shelter us from the rain. As we began our quick run to cover, I grabbed my camera bag. She thought it was so I could take pictures. I knew that it was where the ring had been hidden a few hours earlier.

I'd never been in the park on a stormy day. The view from the back porch of the house was a good place to take in the monsoon. Well, at the least, it was a dry place. I can't remember the small talk that we had at first. I do remember making mention that when the home and land had been owned by a private citizen, the owner had his daughter's wedding on the property. I then said, "I guess the second best thing to a wedding here might be an engagement," and I dropped to one knee.

She obviously knew what was coming as soon as I hit my knee and it didn't take long for her tears to come. I had a speech of sorts that I'd repeated a few times in my head over the course of the day. However, I found the words interrupted several times with absolute and overwhelming emotion. I displayed feelings at a level that I'm not sure existed to me before that moment. Regardless, I did my best to tell her that her presence was one my greatest blessings in life. And I asked her if she would multiply those blessings by becoming my wife. Between the two of us crying, I'm not sure she heard what I said and I didn't hear her say yes. Of course, she let me put the ring on her finger and I took that as a good sign. I stood up. We hugged. And I got verbal confirmation of a yes.

As we walked back around to the front of the house, I asked her if she thought it was time to call and tell her parents. She agreed. About that time, I pointed through the trees to their car driving up the path. Despite a couple of hiccups, the plan had been carried through to fruition. A round of hugs and handshakes between future spouses, their parents and their future in-laws commenced. That night, the new extended family joined together for dinner and a new era for all of us began.

* * * * *

After all was said and done, I came to realize that I was literally inches from having my plan foiled. I hid the ring in my camera bag while Jessie was in the shower before lunch. That night, she asked me how long it had been hidden in there. It seems that during the afternoon, she saw some medication that I usually keep in my bag lying out on the bar. So, what did she do? She put it back where it belonged -- in the same compartment the ring was in. She was literally a inch or two from the ring box and never noticed it. Whew.