Every year, for several years, my parents have given me strangely-titled books for Christmas as stocking stuffers. The quality of the books haven’t mattered so much as the title; this is how I’ve managed to end up reading books such as Bride of the Rat God and The Generic Science Fiction Novel — a thin book with a plain white cover imprinted with the words Science Fiction in bold black letters. But the best find my parents had, by far, was a series called The Cineverse Cycle, by Craig Shaw Gardner. These three books had the most amazing titles: Slaves of the Volcano God, Bride of the Slime Monster, and Revenge of the Fluffy Bunnies.

Needless to say, these books were wonderful. I devoured them in a week, and they quickly became some of my favorites. But alas, I loaned these books to an old friend of mine, who soon thereafter vanished, taking these great books with him. I’ve searched for new copies since then, haunting the used bookstores and libraries; but I was unable to track them down anywhere. It looked as though these books were gone forever.

Hang on; I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.

So far, I’m really enjoying my new job quite a lot. My co-workers are great; I like my boss; and there are times when I find myself amazed that I’m actually getting paid to design and create web pages. I have to say that I wish I were doing more straight programming and database development, but that will come with time. Right now I’m enjoying the time I’m spending here in Portland, and learning how the company works and what the development environment is like.

And the much-prayed-to employment gods have also apparently heard my request for a job with some travel as well. I’ll be in Portland for a few more weeks; then in October, I’ll be spending a few days in Boston; in November, Atlanta; and in December, Los Angeles. These are trade shows and conferences which are related to the e-health industry and to our company’s particular medical specialty. My boss tells me that he wants me to "feel the doctors’ pain", which I think is probably a good idea; but I’ll also be serving as technical support at these shows and conferences.

But the job has its down sides as well. Putting in ten- to twelve- hour days is not unusual. I was up until about one o’clock this morning helping to QA a data migration, and I was up very early double-checking things and sending out e-mails. And I admit that I’m still feeling overwhelmed and sort of "in over my head". But I’m starting to sort things out here, and I’m starting to make sense of it all. I know that I’m looking at some more long hours and heavy projects, especially since I’m apparently being moved into project management, and I’m looking to really build up my skills in many other areas.

The worst of the downsides, of course, is that I’m spending far too much time away from home and away from Jennifer. For nearly two weeks, I haven’t seen my own house at all for more than a few minutes at a time, usually on my way to or from somewhere as I pick up some more clothes or some medicine or a book. When I am in California, I am almost always at Jennifer’s house. I’ve started giving out her phone number as an alternate "home number" for myself. I’ve even listed her address in a couple of places as an alternate address for me. It’s almost as though I’m living with her when I’m in California.

But the point, really, is that when I’m in Portland, I miss Jennifer. A lot. I miss hanging out with her. I miss spending time with her. I miss going out to dinner with her, or snuggling up with her on the couch watching a movie.

In the time that Jennifer and I have been together, I have never had any doubts about the two of us. But if I had ever had any doubts that Jennifer is the one for me, they would have been completely removed with the gift that she gave me prior to my first departure for Portland. She came to my house — one of the last times I was there — to pick me up for dinner or some such event, and as we drove away, she said, "Can I borrow your books in the glove compartment?" I assumed, at the time, that the books she was talking about were the same books she’d had in there for some time, so I said, "But they’re your books."

"No, they’re not," she replied. "Open it up and see.

So I opened up the compartment — and there they were. Slaves of the Volcano God. Bride of the Slime Monster. Revenge of the Fluffy Bunnies. The entire Cineverse Cycle. Jennifer had saved a conversation that she and I had had via Instant Messenger months ago, and had managed to track the books down on an auction site. And I’ve been having great fun here in Portland, re-reading these favorites of mine, and smiling when I think about how I got them.

Jennifer and I have taken the next logical step; I’m beginning the process of moving in with her this weekend. I’ve lived with significant others before, but she never has. This is a big step for me, but it’s an even bigger one for her. I can’t take that lightly, of course, and this wasn’t a decision that either of us made on the spur of the moment. But it’s right.

Jennifer is a marvelously practical woman, and has begun the process of cleaning and rearranging furniture in her house even while I’m up here in Portland, reading silly books, working hard at this crazy job, and thinking of her. She’s charming, funny, intelligent, bright, and witty; one moment she’s planning out investments and going over our house plans with me, and the next she’s sitting beside me gluing together a working clock made out of cardboard or hunting for a stone dragon with me. I can’t help but love her.

So if Jennifer ever were to be enslaved to a volcano god, or forcefully wed to a slime monster, or threatened by a horde of vengeful fluffy bunnies, I would certainly be there to help protect her (not that she couldn’t take care of herself, of course, but you know what I mean). She hunted down a trilogy of strangely-titled novels for me on the basis of an IM conversation that she and I had months ago, that I barely remember; how can I help myself?