True confessions at the Apple Squeeze

I've always been off beat and out of sync my whole life. Of course no one knew about Asperger's Syndrome until 1994. However, I was well acquainted with being called weird or weirdo from family and friends. Ironically, in 1994 when I was 17 I did get diagnosed with a learning disability, discalcula, but Asperger's was just barely out of the womb, and still unheard of in my little world.
So, I went many, many, many years as the high functioning in-congruent puzzle piece that you try to smash into the the picture, but no matter how hard you try, you just can't make it fit, and I did not know why. At age 30 I hear of Asperger's Syndrome for the first time on an NPR broadcast about a woman with Asperger's. To say I suffered a moment of cognitive dissonance is an understatement. The seed was planted, and Asperger's would become a greatest special interest (next to Doctor Who), but it would be four more years before acceptance set in.
Now that the itch had been scratched, and a diagnosis obtained, now what? What do I say to people? Do I wear a name tag that reads "Hello my name is Jackie and if I am socially awkward, idiosyncratic, clumsy (dyspraxia), run at the mouth about a particular subject, rock/sway to-and-fro (aka stimming), can't make sustained eye contact, don't like to be touched lightly, if you are sarcastic or rhetorical I won't get it and answer your question seriously etc...no I'm not a weirdo, it's because I have Asperger's Syndrome". 
The truth is, I've only told my mom and my fiancee. Everyone else who knows me has already accepted me for who I am, or have not, and I see no point in telling them because what difference would it make?
A month after diagnosis, I told my fiancee last week at the Apple Squeeze. A wonderful little festival, in the small town of Lenox, that attracts a lot of people. I am good for about an hour to an hour and a half in a crowded environment before I go into over stimulation shutdown, then inevitably meltdown if overstimulated for longer. If one thing has remained consistent from pre diagnosis to post diagnosis is I do have significant sensory problems.
After 10 years my love, Bill, has become rather perceptive to my nuances, especially the bad ones. Sometimes he recognizes the signs of my impending sensory "moods" before I do. Last Saturday was such a day when I started to get irritable about 2 hours too long past my threshold. I started to get aloof, it's so hard to describe the sensation of being overstimulated, I'll save it for another post. Anyway, Bill started escort me to the car, because I could barely form a sentence let alone comprehend what he was saying. Once away from the crowd, and in the sanctuary of his car, the fog cleared a bit. That is when I turned to him and said, "I have something to tell you" in a rather heavy and serious tone. He looked at me a bit stricken and waited for me to tell him..."I have Asperger's Syndrome". Well the pristine expression of relief on his face was confusing until he said "Oh my God I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant,".