Happy Anniversary

Elton John (and later Ewan McGregor) once said, "My gift is my song, and this one's for you."

I'm a terrible singer, and I can't write songs (as far as I know...), so this is the best I can do, which is good on one hand, because I'm an OK writer with more sincerity than sense, but not as good on the other hand, as my essays will probably never be tapped for their use in Cameron Crowe films where people read them out loud together and exchange meaningful looks.

Today, three years ago, Lindsay Singer became Lindsay Flanagan. It should be noted that I didn't ask her to do that, because I knew she was accepting a lifetime of people just barely misspelling what should be a very simple name. But she did, and it turns out that today when I say "Lindsay Singer" it sounds odd and foreign, like wearing shoes from several years back. They were once comfortable, but are now alien and anachronistic.

Either way, I often refer to my wedding day, August 27, 2005 as the best day of my life. I do that because it is true. Never have I had a better day, and never have I been happier. This is slightly surprising because I put off getting married for a good 2-3 years after it seemed like a foregone conclusion. But then, when I was ready for it, I didn't have a doubt in my mind, and I haven't had one since.

Lindsay is my perfect partner. When people say their spouses are their best friend, I used to scoff, but the fact is Lindsay's been my best friend for the better part of a decade and I literally begin to fall apart and erode without her around, sort of like when Marge went to prison, and Homer wore the devil costume, but more emotionally than sartorially. Much the same happens to her, from what I can tell. We're so used to living together that the house without the other one for longer than a day is just frightening and empty. These days some people call that co-dependency. I call it the most sincere and deeply felt form of love I can imagine. Sure, there are differences, but the similarity in how we traverse this world together is weird, and in the ways we are different, we are so opposite that we really do tend to balance each other out. Where Lindsay is cautious, I am careless. Where I am uncouth, Lindsay is dignified. It goes on an on, and basically gets more personal and embarrassing for one or both of us, but you get the point.

The last three years have been ones of exceptional tumult. We uprooted from Los Angeles (and we are rooters, believe me) , moved to New York, and that was only the start. Lindsay left her job, and started a new day job at an advertising agency, which has had its ups and downs. I quit my job of 4 years and started doing iFanboy full time. Lindsay started, and is succeeding remarkably, a business as a photographer. I'm awed by her incredible progress, and looking at her work makes me amazed that I know someone who can make things from the real world look that fantastic. I'm also incredibly impressed that the girl I know is the same girl who is putting her head down and charging forward with this endeavor in such a fearless way. It's inspiring to me, because I have no doubt that in no time, she will be earning a living doing something she both loves and excels at. I'm also looking forward to the time where I can console her when she gets in a bad mood by saying "Look what you did! Most people can't do that!" and using her own success to thwart the inevitable bad days we all have. At the same time she's dealing with that, she's also helping support me in my current pursuit of a dream to talk about comics as a living, which is a ridiculous goal now that I'm writing it out. Either way, contrary to what you might think, living in a world of comic book discussion is not all carefree and fancy. Since I began in February, I've taken maybe 7-8 days total off, including weekends. Something's always happening. Someone is always emailing, and something is always in production. Like the mail, it's constant. On top of that, we added George to the household, and many of the otherwise spare moments are spent exploring greater New York for just that perfect spot to poop (Nope, not there...next? Can't wait for winter!). Can I also add that George was the greatest birthday present ever? My best friend got us both a new best friend, if that follows.

Anyone who's been in a long relationship will know that these things, and marriage have their highs and lows. And most of the lows, and the things I've been upset about end up being my own fault after time and perspective have set in. This isn't to say that she's perfect, but she is perfect for me. And later, the idea of being upset with a person who has such a perfect and loving face is abominable. The fact is, when I think back about our time together since 2000, I remember nothing of the bad times, and think only of the exceptional amount of laughter over the silliest things. One such example would be when the dog got his upper lip stuck on his tooth like Firemarshall Bill. Laughing till hurt ensued. And I'm not the greatest person to live with either. I'm constantly talking, all the time, and only about 35% of the time in my regular voice. I know that when Lindsay falls asleep when I'm talking, it's because I'm boring her to death with minutia no one in the world should be commenting on. We drive down the road, and I start blabbing on about whatever tiny thing I just saw, and I can now, in my thirties, admit it must be exhausting.

Right now, things are tight. There's not a lot of extra money to go around. If it were up to me, I'd lavish my wife with gifts, but at the moment, the best I can do is to say, right now, in front of as many people as I can, that I love you more than anything in the world, Lindsay. There is objective evidence that I am a better man because of you. Making you laugh is without a doubt my absolute favorite thing to do in the world, and nothing brings me greater contentment than when you are happy. I literally cannot imagine my life with anyone else, and I say that with the greatest joy.

My brother, recently broken up from a relationship called me and asked, "What would you do if you weren't married right now?" He was looking for me to help convince him that there's all sorts of great stuff to be acheived without the albatross of commitment around your neck, but I wasn't much help. I paused a second, and answered 100% truthfully that I had no idea. I couldn't think of what I'd do different. I suppose I'd still be living with a bunch of other dudes, with a bunch of stuff I couldn't afford and a big credit card debt, aimless and probably more overweight than I am now. The thing is, I just couldn't or didn't want to picture it. It wasn't a lack of imagination, but a pointless exercise in imagining a bleak life.

The fact is, when Lindsay and I are together, it doesn't matter what we're doing. I'm told this is no excuse for not doing anything, but regardless, we have fun together all the time, no matter where we are, or what we're doing, and provided Lindsay hasn't fallen asleep. We're particularly good at making up conversations between babies, animals or inanimate objects, but....well, I've already said too much.

Anyway, the point is, thank you Lindsay. Thanks for being my partner, my love, and my life. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did. Happy Anniversary.