Looks like today is a day to break company policy and stream some stations from Pandora. Or else die a boring little sleepy death. The iPod is at home. Boooo.
***
I think Noah and I have been together long enough that we have go-to gifts for each other all in a list. Even the go-to stores. Though our choices perhaps reveal more about us than the recipients of the gifts. A list of VD loot below:
Noah to me: Am-Ko, teapot (so cute! I love it love it!), chapagetti ramen, and in previous years (it's true, dude, but I still love it all) Pocky and tea.
Me to Noah: socks, as in SmartWool, outdoor supply stores, weird cards that I make ... what else ... probably books that I end up enjoying more than he does? Elaborate meals and chocolate?
Noah, I love you forever. Do not be disheartened by any of this. You are too cute, and when you're disheartened, your face gets scrunchy and less cute. So cut it out, okay? I know that you don't know as much about teapots and glazes as I do, but a single-serving, porcelain pot with celadon glaze, then with wax resist and iron oxide flair, is about as me as you get. The only thing more me would be throwing it in a fire at some point, or else sticking shards of glass in it pre-kiln. This is, in other words, spectacular, more so the more I think about it.
Eight years this fall, folks. Three were taken up by the distance. Four in this town. This cold place that the woman whose book I'm editing describes as cold to the bone, gray skies for months, and a choice of Walmart or Walmart. We're getting by, but we're both excited to leave, I think.
I remember, in our first semester in IL, buying wine glasses, a bottle of red (which Noah really dislikes), placemats and napkins ... making a terrible fried version of chicken parmesan, a cheesecake with gelatin ... I know so much better now. And thank God we don't live in a cinderblock apartment anymore.
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