But he's got a beard.

I finally called my folks back home. It was kinda nice to talk to them, just so they know I'm alive. Although I hope they make sure of that by checking my Facebook updates because I do that several magnitudes more frequently than I come into contact with them, even back when we were living in the same town.

I told my mother about Dani. The conversation went something like this.

Her: So you found someone?
Me: Yeah. He's awesome. He takes good care of me and is intelligent and sexy, you'd like him.
Her (jokingly): Sexy? He's got a beard! And he looks like the devil in his Facebook profile.
Me: What does having a beard have got to do with anything? And he doesn't look like the devil. From some angles I think he looks like Jesus, like the ones they paint in the pictures they used to hang above the blackboard at school.
Her: Do you guys go to church?
Me: (thinking best not to say more than necessary) Uh, ha-ha... ... No.
Her: He's from where?
Me: Bosnia.
Her: Aren't they communist? Used to be part of Russia, no?
Me: No, they're socialist, they were never communist, and it was never part of Russia, although he can speak very good English with a strong Russian accent. (While thinking, must repress need to throw in Borat lines about sex in mouth.)

I also told her we've signed a cohabitation agreement when she asked me how serious I thought he was about me.

Pretty committed I'd say. ;-)