bullet points for my wife.

This elegantly penned missive to me is sort of about me, and sort of about The Excellent Us that is my wife and me, and a whole bunch of about my Wife's last night.

* Here is a part I really like:

"You are the loveliest creature on God’s (kind of decaying) green Earth. Let’s face it, I keep this blog because I believe the internet was invented just so I could dominate it and so you and I could use it to re-re-re-re-proclaim our love for one
another."

* I do have so many reasons to love her . . . but as A.R. as I am, I've sort of lost count on the list.

* I'm only on journal #82. But I see your point.

* I would wear fancy dresses with you while the world sits in jeans any day of the week, baby.

* I would totally be into a pub theater, as long as you don't have to foot the whole bill of starting it.

* Your hairdresser's party sounds like a Sex and the City episode. In fact, one in particular: "Cock-a-doodle-do," circa Season 3, Episode 18.

* "The von Hottie" is a much more appropos name than "Germajesty."

* If the bartender is the one I think it is, I am Very Glad Indeed that he was not working that night. I do not like that bartender. Not least because he made me open my birthday chocolates last year. Or because, no offense, I'm not sure the Red Lion is the place to cap off a night of drinking when one's been at the Brandy Library all night. Unlike you, I have very snobby standards. (Only, haha, I can't afford them.) Or for other reasons that involve you, and him being a sleazeball, and me needing to always defend your honor, whether or not you need or want me to.

* I will always, always remember that night back in college, that "tea party," and that man. And for that matter, those dresses. We were so adorable in college. I mean, we still are but now we know it. We were adorable then because we were unaware of our adorability.

* I love having iced coffee, band-aids, and hangovers dedicated to me.

... and, finally, one last bullet point ...

* I find it *hilarious* that you blogged an open letter to me as I lay in bed reading Truth and Beauty, which is a story about the superclose friendship of two writers and twinned souls: Ann Patchett and Lucy Grealy. I read this book and the whole time I think: LAURA! LAURA! LAURA!! I realize if I had a book in me like this (and it is a wonderful book), it would be about me and you. Without the disfiguring surgeries and without the cancer. But otherwise exactly like this book.