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This is where my husband went to high school. I'm standing outside of the upper arts room, which I believe was reserved for the really good high school artists -- like my husband -- a room that I would have never graced with my stick figure drawings and notebook graffiti made of my name + my boyfriend at the time's last name completed by lots of hearts. I bet you are thinking "Oh that's sweet, you drove to your husband's hometown to take commemorative photos." No, we did drive there but it's about a block from our house. So is the hospital he was born in, as is the house he grew up in and every person that has known him since he was "this tall." That's right, every day is a high school reunion for my husband. You know when you meet someone that someone else knows and you say, "isn't is a small world?" To that I say, no, it's just a small town.

This is my "what I would do if I could get my hands on it" skirt, as Tania would call it. Tania -- if we didn't live so far away I'd let you borrow my skirt and a cup of sugar. Only in return for your enviable stack of well-read books and your bike. AND your first born.

What? I just really, really like this skirt.