Like gold to airy thiness beat...

Interestingly, Blogger no longer works from my house... so. It's been a while since I've posted anything.

Last Wednesday was my third anniversary with Tim. For some reason, I keep wanting to say it's the fourth or fifth, but that's probably because there is no room left in my brain for real life. All the available space has been taken up by lyric poetry, New Testament Christology, important dates of the French Revolution, and the meaning of Metaphysics.

I'm tempted to say, "I can't believe it's been three years..." But really, I can. We like each other. It's pretty simple. It's actually harder to believe that I've lived in the Pussycat Palace for a year and a half, or that we went to France two years ago (!) than it is to conceive of liking Tim so much. He's pretty much amazing.

We couldn't really do anything for our anniversary on the 17th, since I had to lay out the paper. (The paper, by the way, looks amazing. I think every article got turned in for the first time in HISTORY and Versha is inspiring in her enthusiasm.) We went to Tacomania with Carly, who gave me a gift certificate to eat there, because she's awesome too.

This weekend, we went to Marshall, TX and spent the night in a B&B called "The Three Oaks." We really didn't get to do too much about the town because it was raining and all but two shops were open. We walked around away and had a hot chocolate in an art gallery full of horrible, overpriced local art. We went to dinner at a place called OS2, where there was a table full of southern ladies wearing tiaras and another full of women dressed like movie stars. Marilyn Monroe, Roxie Hart, Meryl Streep, Princess Grace, Audrey Hepburn, etc. etc. etc. One cosmopolitan after another.

The Bed and Breakfast was AWESOME. The "inn-keeper" was a former belly dancer and rennie, who was the first stranger I've met in the "real world" who understands the joy of getting paid insult people and throw meat at them. The house was over a hundred years old and we had a claw-foot bathtub IN our room. There will be a bathtub in every room of my house someday. For breakfast we had raspberry-stuffed french toast with fresh pears and strawberries which was fabulous for me, but sad for Tim, who could only eat his sausage links. The look on his face when the host set a cup of coffee in front of him was pricelessly sad.

The two other guests at breakfast were a pair of romance novel writers who talked about each other but not themselves. "Diane writes crime romances." "Well, Susan writes paranormal loves stories." "She writes great love scenes." They were hilarious.

Beyond all that, I absolutely love my job in the President's Office. Ms. Connie is funny as hell, and therefore extremely fun to work with. And I have to admit that having the President of the College personally compliment you is a great confidence booster.

Things are good. Jason and Kristin have a Wii and my iPod's in the mail. I still fit in my bride's maid dress and I haven't gotten a migraine in a few weeks... I can't complain.