You might wanna hit the bathroom before this one.

I'll be 30 in three days. This is a very real and very definite thing. So I decided to post about what I've learned over the past thirty years.

Then I realized that I know nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Except.

Perhaps I know a little bit about the music that has shaped me, be it a favorite song, a theme from a period of my life or songs that just wouldn't leave my iPod. So I made a list. A CD, really. Okay, it's a double CD. (It was almost a triple- some serious cuts have been made here, people. Do not think that tears were absent from this process.) What started out as "Ooh, I'll list some songs that I've always liked" became a military operation of razor-edged precision. There were few [40] survivors. (These forty songs fit nicely onto two discs. I've checked.)

And one last [set of] disclaimer[s]: I only included one, awesomely representative track per artist. I HAD to. This was hard. And I omitted tracks that serve a single purpose (or I really, really tried to), i.e. Jay-Z's "On To The Next One" (thanks, Emma!) for when Nora and I just need to dance a little bit, or anything in the Stabbing Westward category (thanks, Nat!) for when we're a little, say, angry? Also gone are the tracks and artists that, sadly, had no staying power. I loved Tiffany and the Annie soundtrack when I was nine. But that's about it. No Songs I Love To Sing, either. That would be crazy. And lengthy. Sorry Linda Ronstandt/Aaron Neville. And the albums that I love as albums, but without any singular track to define a year (a la The Black Crowes' Southern Harmony and Musical Companion) are out. Maybe I'll do a 'best albums' list for my 40th. It's gotta be easier. SO- without further ado, the songs that rocked and defined my world- and, amazingly, still do. (Chronologically as to when they affected my life, not when they were released.)

Okay. Settle in.

1) 1983- You Shook Me All Night Long- AC/DC (Back In Black, 1980): This is the first song that I remember. (Aside from You Are My Sunshine- my duck mobile blasted that one.) My Dad played it on his basement stereo of our house on the Cape. I vaguely recall red carpets and sonic speakers. Since then, both Kate and I have danced with our sisters to this at our weddings. I guess you could call it the Flynn Sis Anthem.

2) 1988- I Want To Know What Love Is- Foreigner (Agent Provocateur, 1984): It was ridiculously hard to not include any other tracks, or even anything from the Lou Gramm canon. But this was my first and the best. It was included in my favorite episode of Quantum Leap (Temptation Eyes- the one with the psychic? Yeah.) and was Side A of a cassette with two songs that helped me fall asleep each night.

3) 1990- Life Goes On- Poison (Flesh And Blood, 1990): And the last song of Side B. (So basically, you could keep flipping it over and over and never have to fast forward or rewind. I was incredible.) This album was my very first cassette. My godfather Joe gave it to me, and since he was the drummer in my Dad's band, I respected every single thing (musical or otherwise) that he's since told me.

4) 1990- Open Up The Door- The John Hall Band (Search Party, 1983): My parents have had a love affair with John Hall and Orleans since well before I was a flicker in anyone's cosmos (that's 'cosmos' not 'cosmo,' Mom.) Both this and All Of The Above are two of the coolest albums to listen to straight through. This is my favorite, though, as I've always liked desperate love pleas. And at age nine? I was kind of an expert.

5) 1990- Mary Mary- The Monkees (More Of The Monkees, 1966): There was a very real possibility of hair-pulling-out action for Davy Jones. Heck, there coulda been some Seppuku. I loved him. Waaay missed the boat on this one.

6) 1990- Oh! Darling- The Beatles (Abbey Road, 1969): Okay, toughest one here. I chose Abbey Road because my sisters and I would scream this one on the way home from soccer games. (The twins were strangely obsessed with it, too, even as babies.) I love the story of how Paul screamed his lungs hoarse in an alley before recording this track. I always wanted to do that. That was kibosh-ed. Also, I lived really close to Abbey Road as a junior abroad. 'Tis a happy place. (Runner up: I've Just Seen A Face. Divine.)

7) 1991- The Thunder Rolls- Garth Brooks (No Fences, 1991): My Dad used to play this one, really softly at first, then would crank the volume as the thunder amped up. We'd all run in (from wherever we were in the house) and scream. And then sing.

8) 1991- Keep On Loving You- REO Speedwagon (High Infidelity, 1981): Neck and neck with #2 for best love song. Even though it's about a cheatin' woman. And even though I later found out what a 'speedwagon' was. Seriously a sucker for a wit's end love song. I was 11.

9) 1991- Disappear- INXS (X, 1990): Okay, for anyone who thinks that the little things go unnoticed in a young kid's life? My parents let me have a phone radio in my bedroom (the phone wasn't connected, but I dug the idea of having there, anyhow) and this song played every morning as I got ready for school. Anytime I hear this song now, I think about how awesome that radio was and how cool my folks were to let me have it. I know.

10) 1991- Photograph- Def Leppard (Pyromania, 1983): Second favorite band of all time. Favorite song in their catalogue. I become Tawny Kitaen when I hear this one and have to be forcibly restrained from dancing atop cars and counters.

11) 1992- Here I Go Again- Whitesnake (Whitesnake, 1987): Speaking of Tawny Kitaen, David Coverdale didn't stand a chance. He literally spends the whole video staring through the dashboard at his car-prancin' gal and giddily thinks: I got to MARRY her! (For a short time.) This song would later resurface in college when a few friends and I half-heartedly wrote a rock opera based around this song. It would have been massive.

12) 1992- Cowboy Man- Lyle Lovett (Lyle Lovett, 1986): I love every single thing about Lyle Lovett and always have. But since my entire family (including Peej and NJ) concur, I'm in excellent company. And this song? I've always wanted to be some cowboy's Cinderella. Dream= attained. (Sure, he's from Ohio, but I think it still counts.)

13) 1993- Everything I Do- Bryan Adams (Waking Up The Neighbours, 1991): Fine. I had to. I've always loved B'adams (and, uh, Prince Of Thieves- best epic EVER), but my family will never let me live down the time that I auditioned for the 6th grade talent show with this song. And so did Brian Jakacky. And the teachers made us duet. And it was GOD AWFUL. (It's even on tape.) Yet, somehow, whenever this song comes on, I can't help but smile. (I also get a lot of phone messages from my sib with just the song playing on the radio.)

14) 1993- Love Lies Bleeding/Funeral For a Friend- Elton John (Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road, 1973): I hafta thank my Mom for this one. It was on a drive back from the Cape one summer where we listened to this album at least three times. It may be one of the coolest-constructed songs ever penned. It's magical. And it makes me appreciate my Mom's musical tastes- because, to be fair, my Dad is one of the most music savvy people to grace the planet. That's some tough competition. But she holds her own.

15) 1993- Make Me Lose Control- Eric Carmen (Single, 1988): Again with the soft n' lite angsty love. This is a wonderfully screamy love song with a CRAZY awesome modulation towards the end. Just perfect for the girl who, as yet, had not received so much as a handshake from a boy.

16) 1993- American Girl- Tom Petty (Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, 1977): Sure, it's a bit cliché,  but as I was 13, so was I. Reminds me of taking the twins to the pool at Ponterril, eating nachos (it's been a lifelong addiction) and dedicating this song to myself on Live 105.5.

17) 1994- Magdalene- Boston (Walk On, 1994)- Yup, I lied. THIS was the hardest to narrow down. Most people within yelling distance know that Boston is my favorite band on the face of any planet, ever, and has been so since I've had ears. Heck, I walked down the aisle to More Than A Feeling. And Third Stage as a whole gets played- oh- once an hour. But this track? Magnificence. Listen to it the first time with headphones. Peej did. And then [2 years later] he asked me to marry him. Also- little known fact. This is my Catholic name. Littler known fact? I'm Catholic.

18) 1995- Kyrie- Mr. Mister (Welcome To The Real World, 1985): Really, at no point in my life has this song not affected me. The overly earnest lyrics, the travelin' sentiment, the best key change in the business? Musical royalty.

19) 1995- At Last- Etta James (At Last! 1961)- There are SO many Etta tracks that I adore. She is easily my favorite female singer to whom I am not related. But this one was the first (thanks again, Uncle Joe!) and kinda encapsulates every single thing I dig about this woman. My Dad took me to see her in the summer of '95 when I was being all weepy and dumb- and it was transcendent. In related news, I named my first car after her. (She was spunky and black, too.)

20) 1997- Your Love- The Outfield (Play Deep, 1986): This was a cross-country running song. Specifically, on the back of the bus on the way to meets. I hated the races. I loved the bus trips. Also- one of my best pals Jen and I were convinced that the first lyric was about a girl named "Jenny" who was "on a vacation far away." This was false. (Oh, Google, how we coulda used you. 'Cause it was Josie.)

21) 1998- Intergalactic- Beastie Boys (Hello Nasty, 1998)- I've always liked the Beastie Boys, but the Fall that I entered college, this song was everywhere. Everywhere. I'm pretty sure it was handed out with our rainbow-colored lanyards and copy of Non Satis Scire. When I think back to the first few weeks of college, I think of that creepy kid on my hall, my unfortunate predilection toward overalls, and this song.

22) 1998- Always On My Mind (Willie Nelson, 1982 AND Pet Shop Boys, 1988)- The version with Willie gives me chills, but the Pet Shop Boys bring their A Game, too. This song is also a bit of a "check in" with my younger self to make sure we're all still feelin' the tragic love songs. And yes, yes we were.

23) 1998- Poison- Alice Cooper (Trash, 1989): This one resurfaced in college. My bestie Vicky and I enjoyed screaming it out of Etta's [the car] windows as we drove around and looked for mayhem. Before everything closed at 7pm.

24) 1999- 7- Prince (Love Symbol, 1992): Originally, I wanted this to be a contender for the Darwin's Kids (the rad episodic comedy on which I worked for about three years) theme song. It wasn't chosen. But you can't stop me from thinking about the series whenever I hear it. So I think we all know who won.

25) 1999- Do You Believe In Love- Huey Lewis and The News (Picture This, 1982): In a word? Yes. I have always believed in love, especially in three part harmony. My bro in-law Tom can rock a version of this a capella. Go on, ask him. You probably won't hafta ask twice.

26) 2000- Rosalita- Bruce Springsteen (The Wild, The Innocent and The E Street Shuffle, 1973): This was another hard choice. Little bit of trivia- every boy that I've ever truly loved has been crazy for Springsteen. So, I guess I do have a "type" after all. (That type would be "awesome.") Other close contenders: Brilliant Disguise, Tunnel of Love, She's The One...but this perfectly describes the kind of love I was looking for- giddy, carefree, a record deal, all of it.

27) 2000- Why Worry- Dire Straits (Brothers in Arms, 1985): One of my favorite albums of all time, and easily the prettiest, saddest track about love that Mark Knopfler penned. I am getting so predictable.

28) 2001- I'm Sticking With You- The Velvet Underground (Loaded, 1970): This makes me think of London, of new beginnings, of taking on the world...all encapsulated in a pretty little love song. Sigh.

29) 2001- Smile- Weezer (The Green Album, 2001): I think Weezer is the bee's knees. This album was considered by many to be their least impressive album. I disagree. People say the album is one, 38 minute long track? Fine. But I LOVE that track. Also, the phrasing in this song makes me think (and think and think and overthink) about sentence structure long after the song ends. That's pretty cool. Nerdy, but cool.

30) 2002- Sweetness- Jimmy Eat World (Bleed American, 2001): This song was everywhere when I graduated from Hampshire. As much as I tried to not identify with a song just 'cause it was on the radio at a crucial time in my life, I couldn't help it. I was "spinning free." I have no idea what the "sweetness" business was all about, but I was most certainly "spinning free."

31) 2004- Galway Girl- Steve Earle (Transcendental Blues, 2000): Sure, my family hails from Counties Cork and Kerry, not necessarily Galway, but close. Besides, when the person who gifts you a new song is cool enough, you'd change your middle name to make a song better apply. Tragic love song? Okay, I'll try it.

32) 2004- Love Is Only A Feeling- The Darkness (Permission To Land, 2004) They were so flippin' cool. No one could tell if they were earnest or making fun of earnest rockers. Either way, the album worked. And this track was a love song about not really accepting the fact that you were in love. Criteria= met.

33) 2005- Gypsy Woman- Martin Sexton (Black Sheep, 2000):  P.J. introduced me to Martin, and we've been fast friend ever since. Martin has no idea, but oh, we're friends. There were so many to choose from here. Happy was our wedding song. (With Peej, that is.) But a song about a gypsy who stole everything and you still want her back? How could I NOT?

34) 2006- Waste- Phish (Billy Breathes, 1996):  Okay, I've never really dug Phish before. But as I am now married to a bona fide hippie (I don't care what you do now, P.J., you wore tie dye in high school. Hippie.) and have a sinking suspicion that I'm raising a mini one as well. And the lyrics speak to every single thing I think and feel about being at home with them, wasting time, not wanting to spend even one second on things that take me away... Sigh. I guess I like Phish.

35) 2007- Carolina In My Mind- James Taylor (James Taylor, 1968): My family has a rabid obsession for Mr. Taylor as well (Tanglewood, woot!), and this one tops them all for me. I've always appreciated it, but the older I get and the more I travel, the harder it is to be away from those people and things from my youth. Okay, the maudlin portion of the narration has ended.

36) 2008- Book Of Days- Enya (Shepherd Moon, 1989): Bet you didn't know this was our wedding recessional! 'Twas a strange choice, and one that the organist (the one whom we thought had kicked it during the first hymn) raised an eyebrow at. But since we had spent the majority of our wedding planning trying to finish the movie Far And Away in teensy, episodic form before passing out each night (it's barely an hour and ten minutes in length), this was a little nod to how ridiculous[ly cool] we were.

37) 2008- I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend- The Rubinoos (Back To The Drawing Board, 1979):  I listened to this on repeat for the entire time it took me to write my latest play, which was- oh, about five months. I also dig that they sued Avril Lavigne for ripping it off in "Girlfriend," and it got thrown out of court when it was proven that THEY ripped off the Rolling Stone's Get Off My Cloud. I live for this kinda stuff.

38) 2009- Can't Hold Back- Survivor (Vital Signs, 1984) Has anyone heard me talk about this one? This album is perfection. This song starts it off. This was blasted at the apartment on Oakley as well as helped us warm the house on Troy. Nora and I made dinner to this every night during maternity leave and it's currently gracing our summer CD mix for the car. I cannot recommend this song enough, people.

39) 2009- Timebomb- Beck (Single, 2007): This song was featured on an episode of True Blood. It also came at a point when, with my third trimester, brand new home with no nursery (as the LEAST of it's problems), and awfully new marriage...my life WAS a timebomb. (Then, just as suddenly, it became the cover of Goodnight, Moon.)

40) 2009- Just Breathe- Pearl Jam (Backspacer, 2009): Liking Pearl Jam was a given, being that I attended high school in the mid-nineties. But this track was gifted to me as we prepared for Nora's birth. Oh, we had it all planned out: P.J. made a CD of songs for the hospital and it would be this serene, lovely experience wherein we would welcome our child with- what? C-Section? Over in 17 minutes? Well, we'll always have this song. (It stayed in the car until she was around six months of age.)

And I cannot believe that I ran out of room on the discs. Already my mind is a big ol' Regret Stew of songs I should have added, things that may not have needed to make the cut, and, and...I'm not gonna worry about it.

Until my sisters begin hassling me.

Perhaps Monday will be an 'addendum' day. Or maybe I'll just let this be a sweet li'l time capsule of my first thirty years. Something I can look back on someday and think to myself- Really? Whitesnake?

Hopefully I'll have some actual knowledge to impart by then. But it'll probably just be some more love songs.

Delivered via hoverboard.

With my mind.

Better than what it usually smells like.

For one brief moment, even before I opened my eyes, I thought I was at the beach. Sure, it was 6am in muggy, slightly overcast Chicago- but the air had that heavy beach quality.

Nora clearly felt it, too. That's why, when she joined me in bed, she fell back to sleep. The sea air does that.

All morning long, even as I looked into my backyard and peeked around to Kedzie (most definitely not the bastion of seaside quietude), I could not be convinced that it wasn't a "beach day." I could even smell the salt.

Perhaps something has happened to the Morton salt factory downtown and that is certainly something to look into- but for now I'll just pretend that I am a coastal being. And not a landlocked Midwesterner tendin' the Back 40. Don't get me wrong- I really dig our lake. And I never knew how hard I'd fall for a small, Wisconsin town and kayaking in its picturesque waters. (Also- apropos of nothing water related- I really and rather inexplicably adore Indiana. That was surprising as well.)

But nothing compares to a body of water comprised of salt. Maybe I just like to be buoyant.

And speaking of the Back 40, we've [P.J. has] spent a ton of time priming the yard on Troy Street. He's seriously so good. Of course, he'll tell our friends and family that we work out back and we've figured out where to place such unruly beasts as the Hosta plant (seriously, they're a bit intimidating)- but he's just being a good sharer. As I've told him many times, the garden is his. But the yard is mine.

It's like that part in Dirty Dancing: "Our Baby is going to change the world." "And what's Lisa going to do?" "Oh, Lisa's going to decorate it."

I'm the Lisa to his Baby.

And baby, can he garden! So far, he's managed to keep alive the following: lilacs, roses, hosta, lilies, tulips, azaleas, holly, clematis, peonies, strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes, peppers, grapevine ivy, lavender, geraniums, petunias, impatiens, a pear tree, a birch, a maple, a slew of decorative grasses, and a jade plant. But the jury's still out on that last one. It looks like it went a few rounds with a Hosta.

And me? Oh, I pretend to garden. I am excellent at pretending to garden. Gimme some gardening gloves and potting soil and I will poke, water, and stomp around the backyard like a true [five year-old] professional. I have no green thumb. I have a black thumb. Really, a black stump of a hand. (Which sounds terrible.)

I over-love. I'm taking copious notes on my gardening style, because these are traits I fear will transfer over to my parenting skills. Really. I just can't leave the darned plants alone. If Peej asks me to water them (which he has sorta ceased doing, lately), I'll waterwaterwater them like it's my sole mission on Earth. Or- I'll forget about them. For weeks. (Which I can't imagine reflecting on my parenting style, overmuch.) Or I'll prod them. And move them. And smother them (with love.)

P.J. is kind. He tells me that I'm a GREAT gardener, that I'm doing JUST FINE. He gave me the job of potting some flowers in the backyard...and now the yard is covered with more potting soil than could ever be in a planter. And potting soil is NOT cheap. (Nor are any of the materials that I squander with my over-loving.) But I needed extra soil to get the darned plants to stand straight! They kept giving up and flopping to the side like wilty little children having tantrums. I showed them! (Some lost their heads. This was unavoidable.)

I swear I am good with kids.

I was, however, clutch at placing backyard-y type furniture. That black, wrought-iron glider between the trees? That was all me. The big, stripey hammock (thanks, Nat!) swaying by the back brick wall of  the house? Yep. As was the fabulous patio set with green paisley umbrella that may be in the mail as we speak. (Thanks for nothing, Home Depot. I don't mean that. I love you.)

And just wait for the fairy lights. And the Tiki torches. And the miniature Enchanted Forest's worth of garden creatures: the bunnies, the frog prince, the helpful gnome, the decapitated turtle (always a big hit. P.J. has promised to "see what he can do" about that one.)

After all of this "gardening," I was fully covered in potting soil, poorly applied sunscreen and a few other questionable substances. So I took a shower with the windows open and lights off. I pretended that it was the outdoor shower in Cape Cod- the one we'd look forward to all day, to rinse off the salt and sunshine and stickiness, the one that was a private oasis of cool water, ocean breezes, heavy scents of roses and food being placed out on the deck. The shower in which you were rarely alone- swimsuits on, of course, this IS a family blog- and would have to fight one's sisters for the Dove shampoo and the single towel not covered in tree bark. It was so pleasant an experience that sometimes we'd finish a shower, jump back into the ocean and then barge into someone else's shower moments later.

My shower at home was good. Not as good as the one in Onset, MA. (But very few nouns are as good here as they are in Onset, MA.)

I'm grateful to be going in August. And I'm thankful for the lovely home we're creating here in Chicago. And I'm indebted to those who protect all of these special places...

...And allow me to live the kinda lifestyle where I get to blog about the difficulty of potting soil.

Which is seriously still everywhere.

The issues seriously do not stop coming.

Bananaversaries are wonderful. And, for the uninitiated- i.e., anyone I'm not directly related to and/or folks that don't have to endure my lax take on the English language- I once gave my sister and bro in-law a card with two dancing bananas. Okay, they may not have been dancing. But they were celebrating an anniversary. Hence, bananaversary.

And that is the only acceptable word for which to describe a milestone in Chez Schoeny. (And Flynn. And Grant.)

So, the bananaverse was lovely. We spent a great, extended weekend in Cincy with Peej's fam; coffee with Dorrie, her pal Bridget and their boys (born the same week as Nora!), an exquisite jaunt to the Gap/Banana Republic/Old Navy clearance outlet in Kentucky (we actually caused a register to sit the next one out), a walk to the farmer's market in Hyde Park Square (where, inexplicably, a woman handed my daughter a hat- from Old Navy, no less), and a positively revelatory Martin Sexton concert, whereupon he played four of my top eight [silently] requested songs. And the day itself? Although not too much like our wedding day; a seven hour trip through the Midwest, lunch at a roadside burger joint in Indiana, a miniature person sporadically screaming her displeasure directly into my nostril...it also wasn't entirely not like our wedding day. Bed by 9pm was a new addition, as were smashed peas in my hair.

Miss N.J. was spoiled beyond recognition by the morning we left for home. Seriously. I think she's bored with just me, as opposed to a household of people exclaiming how perfect she is. She's too polite to ever say so...but still. It's totally the White Elephant in the room.

And now: The Issues.

In Advertising.

First up, we have Captain Morgan. We saw a few billboards on Route 65 for the new "Lime Bite." At first we thought it was just another malt beverage- and, side note: Why are the commercials for these drinks always featuring guys at a bar or a loft party? If you were on a date, say, with a non-heterosexual, fully aged male and he asked for a Zima, or a Smirnoff Ice, or something of that ilk, wouldn't you question his tastes?

I did- er, would.

Sure, they're tasty. And pure sugar. But perhaps revealing that sort of preference should be reserved for a second or third date? In the comfort- and privacy- of one's home? With no other fully aged males around?

But back to the Captain. Lime spiked rum? Really? How hard is it to, you know, spike your rum with lime? There's only one ingredient. (And, if you drank "real" drinks, you'd already have one on hand.) So, for whom are they making this easier? One word: teenagers. Or, two words: tween girls. Leading us to believe that, for all his bravado, Captain Morgan is no better than Tony the Tiger.

Second up: Lanacane Anti-Chafing Gel. Oh...where to start. Here's the copy from the circular:
LANACANE Anti-Chafing Gel
Soothes and Prevents CHAFING (Soreness from skin rubbing on skin and skin on clothing)
ANTI-FRICTION FORMULA (Dries On Contact)
FEELS SILKY (Long-Lasting Comfort)
NON-GREASY (Non-staining, Moisture-Proof)

The ad features a slightly larger than average middle-aged woman. Dancing. Happily. Lifting her skirt, even. To twirl? To show off her non-raw thighs? Who knows.
Directly behind her is a girl, jogging, elbows asunder, gleefully living the chafe-free lifestyle. Or she could be running towards the dancing woman.
Which is clearly what the slightly larger than average middle-aged man next to Jogging Girl is doing. Or dancing. Poorly. But chafe-free as well. He could be looking for a new dance partner. Or he could simply be drawn towards the woman's loose morals and/or chafe-free thighs which are on display for the entire Greater Chicagoland area to see.
Maybe Jogging Girl is their daughter.
Perhaps they have bigger familial issues than whether or not one's thighs are rubbed raw in the day to day lascivious lifestyle this woman is clearly leading.
And maybe if she's so concerned about receiving an entire day's worth of relief from a body part touching another body part (and unless she's competing in a dance marathon), she should just sit down.

And finally, speaking of advertising, shameless self-promotion, and websites (clearly, you enjoy a good website or two): might I ask that you take a gander towards the Top Mommy Blogs button on my sidebar? It takes two clicks: one on the button, one to vote for me. No email addy required, no spam, nothin' but good, ol' fashioned appreciation in anonymously bloggy form.

It's actually pretty misleading. One doesn't have to be a Mommy Blogger to be featured on that site. Or even "Tops." But I do have the goal of making it to the top five humor blogs on their page (I dream so, so big.)

You can click once a day, if you'd like. Twice a day (or more!) from separate computers or various handheld-y objects. But actually, if you have all this extra cash to throw around on multiple means of communication, I'm not above receiving monetary appreciation, either.

Totally your call.

Or you can say it with ponies.

Two whole years.

Sadly, this'll be a quickie blog, as I'm traveling through all points Midwest on an extended anniversary weekend.

Happily- I'm traveling through all points Midwest on an extended anniversary weekend!

So. To Peej, the Jack Of All Trades, Man Of My Dreams, and Horse Of A Different Color (I'm not really sure what I mean by that last one, either):

Thank you for introducing me to music that was recorded past 1989.

Thanks for Nora Jane. Couldn't have done it without ya.

Thanks for riding bikes around town with me like a couple of 8 year olds- even that one time when you had to stop short and I flew over my handlebars. 'Cause you totally yelled at the guy who caused the whole thing. And that was fun to watch.

On that note, thanks for giving my best friends an amazing story behind the phrase- "Get in the house."

Thanks for not getting beat up by that gang of frat boys on that samesuch occasion.

Thanks for obliterating that rat. And for catching me on your back during another [outdoor] rat experience.

Thanks for meeting Scott Bakula and seeing Boston in concert with me.  I know you didn't really want to. Not for real real.

Thanks for making me walk across Rome on foot- which I didn't really want to do- because when the storm clouds parted and we ended up in that piazza...that was pretty spiffy.

Thanks for harrassing our poor landlord into leasing us the apartment of our dreams- three months before we could move in. I told you I couldn't live without that miniature office and you totally believed me.

I woulda died without that strawberry patch, too.

Thanks for knowing which line of dialogue, part of harmony and side of the couch is yours.

That time I threw a plate at your head, thanks for ducking.

And finally, thanks for being the kind of kid with whom I would've played Flashlight Tag, the kind of boyfriend with whom I have danced on tables, and the kind of husband with whom I can't wait to retire in a smallish, tastefully decorated Italian villa.

I love you.

Even if you won't stop to lemme pee.

Again.