That ol' can't do attitude.

My brain has been chasing itself around in circles because of the latest flame-up in the blogosphere, specifically the brouhaha betwixt Nurse K and Ambulance Driver over whether KatyBeth should be shooting. Having been caught with her ass hanging out in the comments, she seems to have decided to take a different tack.

Now it's not bad that KatyBeth is shooting because she's so young, it's bad because she has cerebral palsy.

I should probably back away slowly at this point, because I do not personally know AD or KatyBeth, but it pisses me right the hell off. Maybe NurseK was trying to back herself up out of the first hole, but I think she dug another, deeper one.

I wanted to respond in the comments there, but like I said my brain has been chasing itself around in circles. Here I can talk it out as I please.

See, here's the thing. Like I said, I don't know KatyBeth. I am not even particularly knowledgeable about cerebral palsy in general. What I do have is the intelligence not to second-guess another parent on their child's capabilities. I've read AD's posts on KatyBeth with great interest--she's a few months younger than my oldest daughter--and I've always been fascinated by how he slips in a little bit of occupational therapy where she won't notice it. I will take his word that her work with guns helps her learn fine motor control.

Granted, learning to crochet or to knit would probably also help with fine motor control. But those damned steel hooks can be dangerous, as can aluminum needles, and even those big wooden ones. She could stab somebody with one! Or, you know, herself, on account of that weaker arm, you know. And I'm just not certain that's an acceptable risk.

I do have a dog in this hunt. My boyfriend has CP. He also really likes guns. I'll tell y'all what I told him--I trust him farther around any gun than I do my ex-husband.

The thing is, CP is a limiting condition. The extent to which it limits a person is incredibly variable, though. Erik cannot swim, cannot (legally) drive a stick shift, and...well, I think that's about it. The biggest reason he's not limited is because he refuses to be. AD is refusing to limit KatyBeth, and he's going to teach her to refuse to limit herself, and that means she will be unstoppable. Her limitations will be real limitations, not psychological ones. This will make all the difference.

Beyond all that, there's another aspect. Every time I hear of someone telling a person they shouldn't have a gun, I ask myself this question: Why do they want to keep that person subjugated? It's a serious question. We all know the history of gun control as a tool to keep black folks second-class citizens. I am firm in my belief that women are taught to fear guns for similar reasons--if we are armed, we are now the equal of the men who are otherwise much stronger than we. So, why should someone with cerebral palsy not be allowed to have a gun?

From where I'm sitting, KatyBeth has twice the reason to know her way around the boomsticks as the rest of us. For starters, she's female, and that already means she won't be stronger than anyone who might have evil intentions toward her. The cerebral palsy, far from meaning she shouldn't shoot, makes it that much more important that she can. That lack of full arm strength doesn't mean she can't handle a gun, but it does mean she won't be able to go one-on-one with someone who means her ill. The gun, once again, is an equalizer.

I'm damned glad KatyBeth has the parents she does.

Maybe we should revisit this idea.

Back in 2007, Carlos Guerra wrote about a "Lesser San Antonio Chamber of Commerce." I almost never agree with him, but this time I did--and do. He seems to have lost the thread, but he was right.

From that column:

What we're seeing isn't unlike Seattle's experience during the 1980s and 1990s, when Californians by the hundreds of thousands fell in love with its friendliness and charm — and moved there.

It prompted Seattle columnist (for three newspapers) Emmett Watson to name himself "press secretary" of the "Lesser Seattle Chamber of Commerce," an organization he founded to spread lies about Seattle, such as: "Seattle is Indian for 'Stay away from here,' and, 'It always rains here,'" so that his beautiful city wouldn't be "Californicated."

Alarmed by the destruction now visited by the rapid migration to our city — almost all of from legal aliens from the United States — I am forming the Lesser San Antonio Chamber of Commerce to counter the mindless growth long advocated by another organization of vacuous boosters that I will not dignify by naming

As the self-appointed executive vice president for communications of Lesser San Antonio, I am also asking that you send me true stories — or halfway believable lies — that we can spread about our city to discourage people from moving here.

For starters, I am e-mailing all my out-of-state friends the following: "Well, it's April now. Only a week left before the 100-plus-degree days start, and a month before the 100-plus-degree-plus nights begin!"

Please do your part before we are all overrun.

What brought this to mind more than two years later? This article in today's Express-News:

City South criticized for lack of growth

For the first time, we try to grow this city intelligently, and people piss and moan.

What really gets me is this part:

The organizers also have aligned themselves with Ernest and Jesús Chacon, brothers and landowners who with several others are embroiled in a federal lawsuit with the city to recover the value they believe they've lost because of a three-mile buffer zone established around Toyota. The city's original agreement with Toyota includes a nonbinding provision in which city officials essentially pledged to discourage residential development within the zone, deemed non-compatible with heavy manufacturing.

The emphasis, of course, is mine. I can't see a restriction on residential development around a truck factory as anything but a good idea. Otherwise you get the sort of problems airports typically have--people move in after the fact, and then start agitating because of the noise. Or, alternately, you wind up with problems like those surrounding Camp Bullis, where encroaching development threatens one of the city's major employers.

I grew up in San Antonio, on the south side. I live on the northeast side of town now, in a trailer park that, when I was a girl, was an empty field. It took me a long time to realize I knew this part of town when I moved back, because as a child there was nothing here.

It is exponentially worse on the northwest side of town. There's an ongoing amount of distress and drama concerning the 281/1604 interchange. It is far past capacity, and has been since I was a child. I have never understood why development in the area continued. You go west along 1604 and it's depressing if you knew this city during the '80s and early '90s. Developments have been dug into the rock, and the scars are fresh and ugly. There used to be the groovy little trees--we have a tree preservation ordinance, but it's a joke--and scrub brush, and it looked like the country, but now it's just a butt-ton of developments, and far too many people.

So I can't see at least the attempt at smart growth to be a bad thing.

More from the City South article:

As HOLA conducted its “Free City South” session Tuesday, Bill Manuel sat across the street at a meeting called by state Rep. Joe Farias, D-San Antonio. Part of Farias' aim was to gauge public opinion on City South.

Manuel, who owns 61/2 acres off Blue Wing Road, didn't know what to think about it until he dealt with the management board regarding a proposed zoning change near his property.

He found City South receptive, and he applauded its zoning rules because it means sprawling developments are less likely to creep up on his property.

“Without zoning, then anybody could come in and put up Section 8 housing,” Manuel said. “They could come in and put up low-cost housing. They could put in a junkyard.”

Garza said City South was designed to fit the needs of the existing residents but also foster sustainable, measured growth that translates not into just more homes but communities: The plan calls for homes with porches, walkable neighborhoods and tree-lined streets.

Now, I don't have a problem, necessarily, with low-cost housing. Still, though, I get his concerns. I imagine a lot of people who live south of SA proper moved out there to avoid the skyrocketing land prices and, well, all the damned people. It's certainly a large part of what makes the area appealing to me--you get south of Loop 410, and it just opens up. It's amazing. It's what SA used to be.

And yes, I know things change. I know the city is going to continue to grow and develop. But if we keep on the way we're going, we'll be interchangeable with Dallas. And do we really want that?

You don't hear this often.

Shooting at apartment complex leaves two dead.

The headline, unfortunately, isn't very unusual. Nor is the fact, frankly, that it happened on my side of town.

Here's what I found unusual:

The suspect's father, Roy Mateen, told the San Antonio Express-News that Strong called him after the incident and told him he shot two women but didn't know if they were dead.

Mateen said Strong hinted about fleeing to Mateen's home in Mississippi, but the father told his son he would call the authorities if he tried. Mateen suggested his son turn himself in to police.

“I told him, ‘I'm not going to hold you up for your wrongdoings,'” he said. “He knows my rules. It's terrible what he did.

“The first thing I thought was that he locked himself up for life,” Mateen added. “He killed himself as well as those people.”

snip

Mateen said his son left Mississippi for San Antonio about 15 years ago with the mother of his son.

Strong told his father several times that he was having child-custody issues with the mother. The suspect's father said he thought it was because Strong wasn't paying child support.

“You need to take care of your child the way I took care of you,” Mateen said he told his son. “I stayed out of trouble with the law.”

Hmm. It seems Tabari Strong wasn't a choir boy.

Emily Post must be rolling in her grave.

Our President is clueless about proper protocol.

But that's OK, the NYT is on it!

Canadians still bow to England's Queen; so do Australians. Americans shake hands. If not to stand eye-to-eye with royalty, what else were 1776 and all that about?

snip

There was that curtsy, during the Reagan years, when Lenore Annenberg, herself the chief of protocol, forgot herself entirely and did a little dip to greet a visiting Prince Charles. That prompted a stern warning from Miss Manners against those who might mock the effort that "was once put into freeing Americans from the necessity of bending their knees." Soon afterward, when Nancy Reagan greeted Queen Elizabeth II behind closed doors, her press secretary acknowledged that Mrs. Reagan had bowed her head but insisted, "It was definitely not a curtsy."

snip

But the "thou need not bow" commandment from the State Department's protocol office maintained a constancy of more than 200 years.

(Emphasis here is mine.)

Wait, what?

You mean that wasn't Obama they were taking to task, but President Clinton? Huh.

Well, let's all just pretend it was, OK? I haven't a clue what became of Ms. Annenberg, but she is desperately needed in the Obama White House.

I shall not put too fine a point on it. This is unconscionable, and not just from a political standpoint. It is a grievous error in manners as well. We are Americans. We do not bow to foreign royalty. None of us. That means not you, not I, and certainly not the President of the United States.

A salute, as most of you know, is a show of respect. This is why it is returned by the officer to the enlisted man who has thus greeted him. (There is protocol, of course--the enlisted proffers the salute, as he is of lesser rank.)

A bow is not a show of respect. A bow is a show of subservience. This is why there are varying degrees of bows. A commoner would bow quite deeply to his monarch. A duke's bow would barely merit the term. The only circumstances under which a head of state would bow that deeply to another head of state would be if he was recently conquered and hoping to keep his own head. The depth of President Obama's bow goes beyond mere subservience into obsequiousness.

Either we have a President who is completely clueless as to proper protocol (here's a clue: a handshake is the ONLY proper greeting for an American to give another person in diplomatic interaction), or we have a President who is trying to knock America down a few pegs. I sincerely hope it's the former, but I doubt it.

Debate Heirarchy

I StumbledUpon this neat little graphic over here. It's a graphic representation of this article. I very much prefer the visual representation, having always been a fan of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, though I don't 100% agree with it.**

I try to keep my arguments always within the top three. I abhor making an argument without examples, which is one of the reasons I post relatively seldom. A blog post for me that's not about, well, me requires a lot of research and I try to not use obviously slanted sources. (You will not, for example, ever find me using Mercola to further an argument, no matter that I agree with some of the stuff on the site.)

All this said, I don't have anything against the very bottom level of argument, so long as it is supported by one of the three highest forms of argument. Because, let's face it, calling an asshat an asshat is sometimes deserved.

In my internet meanderings I am sometimes bedeviled by a woman who vehemently disagrees with me on politics. The problem? She never says "Sabra, you are wrong because of X, Y, & Z, and here are links to support my counterargument." Rather, she says "Sabra, you're a fucking stupid-ass bitch." (If that's not a direct quote, it's close!) And she never, ever so much as presents a counterargument, much less provides anything to back it up.

Thing is, on subjects other than politics, she's shown herself to be pretty darned intelligent, and we even find ourselves agreeing on many things. So I have always been rather bemused by these political discussions.

I see a lot of name calling and ad hominem attacks from the Left, and relatively little of it from the Right (Sean Hannity is distressingly prone to this; it's why I no longer listen to him). It only plays into my personal theory that modern liberalism (as opposed to classical liberalism a la John Rawls) is fundamentally an illogical philosophy based more upon feelings than upon facts. That some moral theories are based upon feelings is nothing new--hedonism dates back to Epicurous, and of course John Stuart Mill's destructive philosophy of Utilitarianism is based upon the idea that what is right is what feels good. That I find this attitude incredibly distasteful is also no secret to my regular readers.

At best, much of the "reasoning" I have seen lately from the left falls into the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy--or, to put it in a form you might be more familiar with, the belief that correlation implies causation (not quite it, but close). This is most readily visible in cases of gun crimes. Because guns are easily accessible (they're not; I know), any crime committed with a gun must have been committed because of this ease of access; therefore if we restrict legal access to guns, we will reduce illegal activity with guns. The problems with this argument are readily apparent, of course; nevertheless it is one that is frequently proffered. I think this logical fallacy is why so often it seems liberals are more interested in treating the symptoms rather than the disease (witness choosing abortion as a women's rights issue rather than the continued objectification of women and the overwhelming societal influences encouraging us to depend only on our sexuality for self-worth).

I actually think that classical liberalism has much to offer modern political discourse. It's a damned shame that the Left has allowed itself to be overcome by the feelings rather than facts crowd, and I don't doubt this is a large portion of why conservatism has been strengthening over the last few years. I have spoken in the past of my general appreciation for former President Clinton, and in truth when I turned 18 I registered as a Democrat. I was a Populist as a teenager and honestly continue to think of myself as one. However, I found no home for my populist ideals within the DNC, as I believe the populace at large is best served by strengthening the individual in particular. And somehow, I doubt I'm the only one.

Just something to think about this weekend...










**It's not that I disagree with Maslow's Hierarchy per se, rather that I don't feel it's nearly as linear and well-defined as it's often presented.

Today's pointless quiz...

via Auto Insurance.org

Got the link to this off Mental Floss's Weekend Links blog. Kinda scary that the blog author only got a D--even the ones I didn't recognize straight off were easy to figure out just by looking and thinking for a minute.

Thankfully, she's in Atlanta, not San Antonio.

In which Sabra gets all mushy.

I'm listening, right now, to KFWR's internet stream. It is only one of many wonderful things Erik introduced me to. (Minds out of the gutter...I introduced far more of that to him, anyway.) Texas country. Otherwise known as real country music. Hayes Carll, Bleu Edmondson, Cross Canadian Ragweed, Jason Boland, Randy Rogers Band, und so weiter. Good shit. I don't know why San Antonio doesn't have a Texas country station; KJ97's 10pm-to-midnight show doesn't cut it.

We started reading each others' blogs around the same time--the beginning of July. I first commented on one of his posts on 9 July. Surprisingly enough, this was not directly related to music. We didn't really get into it about that topic until the end of that month. He has since told me that comment of mine, about singing "San Antonio Rose" to my girls as babies (well, before they were even born, really) made him sit up and take notice of me...but he's also the only person since I was a teenager who overestimated my age.

I've told him he was my blog crush. That he had a window of opportunity that had started to close by the time he finally came through it. All of this is true. He has told me he took notice of me almost immediately but didn't think he had much of a chance, but figured he'd better go for it when I started talking about Fred.

I told him the first or second time we chatted on Facebook that I wasn't going to make him any promises. Truth be known, it was myself I was trying to convince, not him. I knew long before I ever heard his voice that I was going to fall for him. What I did not know was how fast, or how hard. An acquaintance told me he didn't really "get" the online dating thing. And that's OK. Because I really don't, either.

Those of you who happen to read Erik's blog will not be surprised by this: He is exactly the same in person as he is in that blog. And discovering that is what made me fall in love with him. Here is the one thing I never thought to find: a person who has as little patience for the typical romantic games and BS as I do. He is honest, and he is forthright, and he haz teh critical thinking skillz. He is also easily distracted, being prone to what we term "Ooh, shiny!" moments. This means he's OK with mine, which are sometimes quite literal (light fixture, baby? ;-) ).

We talk. Neither of us ever shuts up. Our phone discussion last night covered Taylor Swift, the joke that the CMAs have become, moral relativism, reasoning from what is to what ought to be (and why you really can't), Brad Paisley vs. Bleu Edmondson, deontology vs. consequentialism, and more.

He shares my habit of overanalyzing country songs. He was not bothered at all when, on his birthday, I took a breather from making out with him to critique the song that was playing on his Sirius radio at the time. We share, as he has said more than once, a love of the old country, too. His favorite Merle Haggard song is "Rambling Fever." Mine is "That's The Way Love Goes." While his ex-girlfriend (whom we've jokingly named Kitty-Eater) looked at him like he was eating a kitten when he sang along with Merle singing Bob Wills, I have told him he hooked me by playing me that very song the first night we talked on the phone. We've debated the finer points of different versions of the same song (CCR's vs. Ray Wylie Hubbard's "I Wanna Rock and Roll"; CCR's vs. RRB's "This Time Around", the eleventy billion versions of "I Don't Think Hank Done It This Way" and more).

We share a love of the written word. He carries a pen tucked behind his ear. He appreciated it when I took a red pen and copyedited some signs in one of the bathrooms at school. We have long discussions not only of the finer points of grammar and punctuation (he lacks my devotion to the Oxford comma, poor deluded soul) but of journalism, newspapers, the study of journalism, and the writing skills--or lack thereof--possessed by the folks in my Creative Writing class. He makes his living doing something absolutely anachronistic for this era, and he loves the way I am somewhat knowledgeable about his field and more than willing to discuss the finer points of it with him. And that rocks.

At the risk of TMI: This post of his caught my eye very early on. It's unusual, these days, to find someone like that. His lovers outnumber mine by exactly one. He is careful (and I do not just mean in a safe sex manner). I appreciate that. It was a good hint to me that he was my kind of man. And, well, he is enthusiastic. Having been married to a man who not only never wanted to have sex but seemed to make it a point to make me feel bad for wanting to...it's a hell of an appreciated change. I'll just leave it at that.

He has an excellent sense of humor, sometimes self-deprecating. He does have a habit of misunderestimating himself, but the flip side of that is there's not a self-centered bone in his body. At the same time, he is quietly confident in me. In us, I should say ("I know what I want and I will not stop until I get it" <--actual quote). In practical terms, this means that I can wear high heels that make me slightly taller than he (he's only 2 inches taller than I am--yay for short guys!) and my comment earlier about tossing his scrawny gimp ass across the room made him laugh, not get offended.

He is, as I have said elsewhere, a true gentleman. The best of what Texas has to offer. Y'all should hear the way he speaks of his mama. And his stepfather, for that matter. Or his grandmama, or his nephew, or his uncle...Or, for that matter, my kids.

Most importantly, perhaps: We have a shared outlook on life. We believe much the same way. We think similarly. We both want a little piece of Texas countryside and a passel o' floppy-haired chilluns.

I am still more than a little in awe of this. He has said before that he likes the way that, when we are together, I cannot stop touching him. This is why: I am amazed by him. He is what I did not think even really existed. He likes me. This is a strange statement to make, yes. But the truth. All those little quirks of personality my ex-husband merely tolerated, Erik revels in. (He's said he got a feeling long ago that we would be very good for each other. And he was right. And every time I think of that, I get chills.) And because he is so much like me, I am able to relax and be myself in a way I was never really able to before. It wasn't until I met him that I realized this is the way things are supposed to be.

But I'm glad I know now.

One more gone to God

Memory of fallen Marine stays with family.

During the Mass of the Resurrection, clergy and fellow Marines told stories about Ruiz; they said he told his wife that “he wanted to die for a purpose.”

“Know that he rests in the hearts of those who knew and loved him,” the priest said. “He lives in all that we are.”

Ruiz, born in Nava Coahuila, Mexico, grew up in San Antonio and graduated from Taft High School in 2001.

A combat engineer, Ruiz was on his second tour in Afghanistan and second stint with the Marines. He worked with his father as a bricklayer for three years but missed the Marines. He felt that he needed to go back, his family said, and he went back into action with his wife's blessing.

A statue of Jesus with outstretched hands stood above the pews filled from front to back. The wail of restless babies mingled with muffled tears throughout the Mass.

A Marine stood and said Ruiz called his wife before his last mission. He was sure the words “I love you” were said before their final talk ended.

The Marine closed his words with “Semper fi, Marine,” drawing applause from the crowd.

Sgt. Ruiz, it turns out, is a relative of Dave's, who had a post on his homecoming.

I was friends in high school with his cousin, Nora. At the beginning of this month, the same day she accepted my friend request over on Facebook, she posted a photo of his casket arriving at Dover AFB. This is how I learned of his death. Rather more immediate than reading of it in the paper.

I was not fortunate enough to know Sgt. Ruiz personally, but I have seen his family's mourning vicariously, and this is what always gets me anyway. I ache for Nora and can only imagine how much worse it is for those closer to him.

Semper Fi, Marine.

Credit Where It's Due

Cuts from O's speech at Fort Hood today:

But here is what you must also know: your loved ones endure through the life of our nation. Their memory will be honored in the places they lived and by the people they touched. Their life's work is our security, and the freedom that we too often take for granted. Every evening that the sun sets on a tranquil town; every dawn that a flag is unfurled; every moment that an American enjoys life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness - that is their legacy.

snip

One medic - Francisco de la Serna - treated both Officer Munley and the gunman who shot her.

It may be hard to comprehend the twisted logic that led to this tragedy. But this much we do know - no faith justifies these murderous and craven acts; no just and loving God looks upon them with favor. And for what he has done, we know that the killer will be met with justice - in this world, and the next.

snip

We are a nation that endures because of the courage of those who defend it. We saw that valor in those who braved bullets here at Fort Hood, just as surely as we see it in those who signed up knowing that they would serve in harm's way.

We are a nation of laws whose commitment to justice is so enduring that we would treat a gunman and give him due process, just as surely as we will see that he pays for his crimes.

We are a nation that guarantees the freedom to worship as one chooses. And instead of claiming God for our side, we remember Lincoln's words, and always pray to be on the side of God.

snip

This generation of soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and Coast Guardsmen have volunteered in a time of certain danger. They are part of the finest fighting force that the world has ever known. They have served tour after tour of duty in distant, different and difficult places. They have stood watch in blinding deserts and on snowy mountains. They have extended the opportunity of self-government to peoples that have suffered tyranny and war. They are man and woman; white, black, and brown; of all faiths and stations - all Americans, serving together to protect our people, while giving others half a world away the chance to lead a better life.

snip

Long after they are laid to rest - when the fighting has finished, and our nation has endured; when today's servicemen and women are veterans, and their children have grown - it will be said of this generation that they believed under the most trying of tests; that they persevered not just when it was easy, but when it was hard; and that they paid the price and bore the burden to secure this nation, and stood up for the values that live in the hearts of all free peoples.

I'll get all political in the next day or two. For now, I will say merely that the President's speech, while not without its shortcomings (which I shall allow others to address) was moving and a worthy tribute to those who were killed.

Fort Hood

This is one of those cases where I really can't add to what others have said, so I'll just echo some of it:

JayG reminds us of what's important:

I can't help but think of the 13 men and women killed and the 30 people wounded. Please pray for the dead and injured, that they may find peace in this terrible time.

The guys at Blackfive have a few great pictures and also rightly call out Officer Kimberly Munley as a warrior and hero. I'm going to have to agree with Uncle Jimbo:

I will only say I'm glad the son of a bitch lived and we get to kill him properly. Do we still have firing squads?

Speaking of which, Albatross pointed out that Hasan is being cared for here in San Antonio. (And for the record, I agree with your assessment of him.)

MySA.com has profiles of nine of the victims. They also have a good summary of ways to help.

Stormbringer has what I think is an excellent rundown of the situation (h/t TOTWTYTR). I'll quote this:

This event is very disturbing, on so many levels. The Army is my family; I bleed green. When the Army takes it like this, everyone in our extended Army family hurts - BAD.

(My first thought was worry for a wife or two I know on Fort Hood.)

***


On a semi-personal note, Dave writes here of Sgt. Cesar B. Ruiz, a relative of his. I was friends back in high school with another of Cesar's cousins, Nora. We seem to have had a run of young men from this area killed in Afghanistan recently. It is, simply, heartbreaking. This is the San Anto spirit y'all.

You call THAT a knife?

Yesterday morning, I had this conversation:
“Baby, I need a knife and a cutting board if you have one.”
“I don’t think I have a cutting board; let me check. No, I don’t have a cutting board.”
“Is this the only knife you have?”
“Ah, yes.”
“You own ten guns and this is the only knife you have? What the hell, do you shoot your steak into small pieces?”

The knife in question, y’all, was a paring knife. With a blade that was maybe 2.5” long. The person I had this conversation with was my sweetie.

Is this one of the differences between women and men? I can’t even count the number of sharp, pointy knives in my house. They’re some damn fine knives, too. I have a whole set of knives where the handle and the blade are made out of the same piece of steel. I have a good quality Japanese chef’s knife that I bought in Hawaii before our household goods arrived because I needed a knife to cut things. My boyfriend has a pickup truck, a gun club membership, nicer furniture than I ever thought of having…and a gun-shaped bottle of tequila…but not one decent knife.

That’s OK, though. I ratted him out to his aunt and his mama. He’s probably going to have enough knives to pin a deer hide to the wall in the living room—right by the work bench—before the weekend is out.

I also know what I’m getting him for Christmas.

Devotion

My baby's birthday is Thursday (c'mon, y'all: "Awww").

I'm driving to his place today, after I attend my one "can't miss" class (First Aid, wherein if we miss a single lab, we don't get our certification). Three hundred miles. This trip was planned well in advance, for us--about two weeks ago.

This, my friends, is the definition of love: Willingness to face Houston traffic not once but twice in the course of slightly over 24 hours' time.

(For the record: yes, he's getting a birthday present. No, firearms are not involved. I will admit ammunition was my first thought.)