good day

She is the voice of the car tonight.
When I tell her that, she, as the car, replies, "You're such a dweeb."
That word came back, people.
Dweeb is a really amazing person now.
I know that's what she means.
We're going on a Valentine date to Jackson.
It's an adventure.




Also spending a day with little inside jokes of you know what that laughter was and he just writes those little pushes to start your day. A theme, if you will. It's a fairy tale without ever even having to be near a guy which I mean I don't know what I would do but it's also nice just as it is. I'm fine if it stays like this, but it is nice to play and he hasn't said stop or no or ohgoodgosh.




I just know that when we went to lunch seven months ago, something changed in me. He should have to take no responsibility for such change. I just sat there, mouth open, drool creeping over my bottom lip, wheezing from all the smoking I had been doing and watched. He asked,

"Do you mind if I ask for my food to be blessed?"

"Oh please, go right ahead."


Oh, honey. 
I did not close my eyes; I didn't even care about mine.
I just wanted to watch that man ask something of God.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head and dang.
It was beautiful, and I should be ashamed of myself.



Today I am grateful for shame.
It kept me from driving to New Orleans in a week I was already not sleeping.