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I'm getting married in thirty days.

...

Sorry I had to read that sentence a few times before moving on.

My fiancé and I have been engaged to be married since late last year. I had been told by a recently married couple early on that as the time approached, we would get antsier and antsier. "Let's just get hitched already!" we would say.

Well, they were correct. I'm ready to be Terri's husband and I don't want to wait any longer. I don't even want to wait five minutes.

But I can't help remembering St Paul's words: "Love is patient."

Patience isn't just about learning to wait it out. It's about learning to make the most out of the time you have to wait. In my earlier life I did not think it would take until my 29th year to get married.

But God wanted me to do some things during those years that I could not have done had I married at 21 or 22. And I like to think I did at least some of them.

Moreover, had I forced myself to get married back then, I would have completely missed out on Terri, whom I didn't even know back then. That's why we must rely on God's timing. Because he is the only one who KNOWS the timing.

But I digress.

Too many people spend their lives just waiting, saying "Someday, someday my dream will come." Don't.

Live. The way God wants you to live. You and I have zero days to wait before we can live our lives where we are to the absolute full.

If I had spent the last 29 years just waiting for God to bless me, not seeking his will in my life, I think I would have a lot longer to wait today.

Now, all I have to do is figure out what he would like me to do with the next 30 days. And I better. Or I might lose my mind.

Those who have known me for some time know that every now and then I do something a little stupid. Not on purpose. And not really bad life-altering type stupid. Just kind of absent-minded type stupid.

This morning before driving to work I went over to a phone store because I am trying to decide between two smart-phones. After visiting with the techies at the phone store I returned to the now much fuller parking lot.

I walked up to the truck, a tan Ford Explorer Sport Trac, and put my key in the lock. But it would not turn. I tried turning a little harder. No good. A lady walked by. I smiled briefly at her, somewhat embarrassed. I made like I was messaging someone or something, until she drove away.

Then, I walked over to the passenger side door, and tried once again. No good. What the heck is wrong with my locks? Perhaps the microchip in my key is shot. That would suck. Well, hopefully I can get in using the touch pad on my driver side door.

I walked back over to the driver side door, and the touch pad was gone. GONE! Not that it had been pried off or anything. There was just NO SIGN of it. Where before it had always been there, now in its place was simply a bare, tan door.

For about twenty seconds I stood there dumbfounded. How could my touch pad just VANISH, COMPLETELY?

And the hood! The hood was all kinds of discolored! This horrified me! I thought I had cleaned all that bird poop off my hood before it started eating away at my paint job! What has happened to my beautiful truck?

I felt like Bruce Willis at the end of the Sixth Sense. You know, where things you never saw have suddenly appeared or things you thought were there all along turn out to be illusions.

...

By now you have probably been saying something to me like, "Wrong truck dumba--." Yes, I know. It was right about then that I looked at exactly where I was standing, and said, "Hmm, this feels a little different from where I thought I parked."

I looked down a few cars, and sure enough, there was my truck. Touch pad, clean hood and all. I walked over discreetly, got in, no problem, and started it up -- all the while looking around, hoping no one was filming me. Because if they were, I may be the next video on fail blog.

Last night Terri and I went to the movies. It was there that I realized ...

If you're on a date, the best place to sit in a movie theater is directly behind two short people. Because nothing is more irritating than a giant cranium rising like a black hole sun into the horizon of the screen. But if you can find two short people to sit behind, there is a one hundred percent chance that that will not happen.

***

Before the movie started, there was a commercial for 3D televisions. During it, Terri remarked to me: "It would make me nauseous to watch stuff in 3D all the time."

I replied: "But dear, we see stuff in 3D all the time."

She remained silent for a few seconds, before replying: "Shut up."

It's nice to win one every now and then.

***

The film Terri and I watched, by the way, was Toy Story 3. Terri and Mark give it two thumbs way up. I say it is the funniest and most suspenseful of the three, with a truly Mission Impossible-esque storyline. Great fun.

I just wanted to take a moment to affirm my youngest sister, Anna, for her talent at video weblogging, also known as "vlogging."

Observe:

Funny stuff.

She has a series of vlogs posted at a Youtube channel that she shares with her friend Julia, known as the JuliAnna project. Check it.

How cliche is my life?

I'm sitting here watching the NBA Finals between the Los Angeles Lakers and the Boston Celtics, two of the most storied franchises in the history of basketball -- for reasons of which my fiance is completely, and offensively, ignorant. She could care less about the game. I am hoping the Celtics win because I can't stand Kobe Bryant.

Speaking of my future wife, she is sitting next to me on the couch, reading ... Twilight, one of the most popular works of modern fiction in the country -- for reasons I will never understand. I could care less about the progression of the story, although unlike the game, I know what's going to happen in the book -- because I have seen the movie. So has she, and yet she continues reading, completely engrossed.

I know, I know. It's not supposed to make sense.

And I can't complain. Why do I get so much joy out of watching Kobe blow a play, then whine and moan and wave his arms around claiming the ref blew a call? One of those imponderables.

Just in case anyone missed this. This is an extended cut of my friends Justin and Kelly winning the O. Henry Pun-Off World Championships "Punniest of Show" competition, in Austin Texas on May 22. It includes interviews before and after, and the trophy presentation.

This was awesome.

My roommate Justin Golbabai and our friend Kelly Dupen perform their now famous pun-laden routine in which they play a five-years-dating, not-yet-engaged couple at the end of their rope. On May 22, 2010, in Austin Texas, their ingenious routine won first place at the O. Henry World Championship Pun-Off's "Punniest in Show" event.

To my surprise, I have actually been told by a couple of readers that I have been slacking on my web log. On one hand I find this very affirming, since I suppose it means there is some demand for my writing. On the other it is a bit distressing since I have not been doing enough to meet said demand.

I heard somewhere once that writing is never finished -- it is merely abandoned. Writing will never reach the level of perfection that we writers desire for it. We aren't God, but we wish we could be so capable. We have to be content with what we have been able to produce, imperfect as it is, because we won't produce anything much better if we work hard on it for another ten years, and we certainly won't improve it at all by our deadline.

That's a good thing for me to learn in approaching this particular project in my life. I often start to write something and then I leave it in the "draft" section because some sentence here is not quite what I'm trying to say or some word there may rub certain people the wrong way, or some readers might respond in this way to that argument and then dismiss whatever else I have to say, or I haven't figured out a clever enough way to end the post.

For all these reasons, and because I have been rather busy in other areas of my life, I have only managed to do a handful of posts in May. So I will now try something new. I will try each day (or as often as possible) to post something up here, and after 30 minutes to an hour max of work on it, I will simply abandon it. I will hit "publish" and what will be will be.

The most difficult thing about writing for me is letting go. So now I'm working on letting go. If any of the imperfections listed in the third paragraph come glaring through in a post, I welcome comments to that effect. Either way, enjoy!

I was very sickly and pathetic on Friday. After spending the day mostly sleeping off a dreadful sinus headache, my beautiful fiance, whom I love very much (and who alone knows where this is going), came by my apartment to take me out to get dinner. Again, I very much appreciated this.

At this point I should make clear that while I have a history of indecision and second-guessing when it comes to big choices, like what to do with my life, I have no such problems when it comes to little things, like where to get food on a Friday night. With that in mind, observe the following exchange with T and me, as we sat in her car.

T: So where do you want to eat?

I rub my forehead in pain. I should also mention that Terri hhad her keys in the ignition, but she had not yet actually started the car.

T: Awww, baby.
Me: I don't know. I can't think.
T: How about Elevation Burger?

Now at this point, I'm thinking, Oh that could be good. That's the moment of decision for me. So I say to her --

Me: Sure honey.

Here's the problem. When you are very sickly and pathetic, you can't really sound very enthusiastic about anything. Not even Elevation Burger.

T: Do you want to eat somewhere else?
Me: No, Elevation Burger is fine, honey.
T: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, I'm sure.
T: But you don't look sure.
Me: Could you please start the car, honey?
T: You're sure you don't wanta eat somewhere else?

I rub my forehead again.

M: Ummm ...

At this piont, she has almost convinced me to start considering other possibilities. She pats my knee reassuringly.

T: Anywhere you want, honey ...

My head was spinning. I almost said Plucker's. I summoned up all my strength ...

Me: Oh! I have an idea.
T: What?
Me: ELEVATION BURGER!

I reached for the keys and and turned the car on myself.

But again, I really appreciated it very much.

Of course, Chick-Fil-A is relatively close to Elevation Burger. So naturally as we were approaching, Terri asked:

T: Do you want to go to Chick-Fil-A instead?

I rubbed my head again.

Me: Why, do you wanta go?
T: No I just thought maybe you would like to.
Me: ...Well now that you mention it ...
T: Yeah? You want to?
Me: ELEVATION BURGER!