Not too long before B. and I started dating seriously, I was dating another guy who was both a millionaire and a really nice man. (Not always synonymous with each other.) One of our last conversations involved a very sleepy night, jet lag and the desire to reach out to someone when the entire world (or at least, my little corner of it) was asleep.

I’d only been back home after a four-month backpacking trip through 4 continents for about a week or so, and I could not get to sleep. I knew that he often stayed up late, so I chanced it and called him up at his hotel. (His home base was North Carolina but stayed for long periods in Dallas, where he owned a very successful business.) Sometime during that midnight conversation, we ended up chatting at length about the difference between the words accurate and precise. Seriously. Must’ve spent at least 15-20 minutes on it. Parsed the nuances of meaning of each word, weighing them against the other word, using them in different sentences, arguing their appropriateness in a particular sentence, that sort of thing.

Yeah, I’m such a Word Nerd.

And he loved it. I guess that’s why we got along so well.

As for B., well, one of the things I love love love about him is his happy willingness to spend entire afternoons at Barnes & Noble or Borders, sitting in the cafe and leafing through piles of magazines (that we don’t buy) while sipping our coffees and munching on sweet treats (which we do). Any guy who would share that time with me is my hero.