Happy Birthday, Darling.

Because, honestly, what else could I have called it?

Emilea, this comes to you a day late. As you probably heard over the phone, I was hundreds of miles away from my computer. (But it didn't matter, because I was inches away from two of my favorite people.) I know I've been nearly dead to the blogging world, and I haven't posted in a while. But I thought your sixteenth birthday definitely merited an ascent, on my part, out of my little hermit hole.

I just want to say thanks for sticking it out sixteen years and for being my friend. Thanks for being sweet and adorable and empathetic and making us all want to be a little nicer to the people around us, too. Thanks for being so affected by beautiful things. The world would be so much better if everyone was touched by simple beauty the way you are.

Thanks for being a lovely, gentle writer and for sharing with us, even though sometimes it's hard to share. I hope you have sixteen more years of good writing. And then sixteen after that. And so on. I hope you do great things with this gift of yours.

I miss you dearly! I miss the way you read poetry and the way you take that elliptical machine for all its worth. I hope we can exercise together again soon.

We love you very much. Happy Birthday, Darling.

I'm Just a Wookie in a China Shop.

My little brother and I have this secret addiction to GSN. Actually, we have a not-so-secret addiction to winning. No, dominating. Completely smashing the other teams into smithereens (wonder where that word has its roots) and then kicking the wreckage around on the floor in the midst of our maniacal laughter.

Okay, so we're not that competitive. But we do love beating the people on TV, though no one will ever know but us. Who Wants to Be A Millionaire is most definitely a favorite. Today we tried to make it into the hotseat. And I did. You were supposed to name the movies from oldest to newest (A. Babe: Pig in the City, B. Willard, C. Gremlins, D. Bringing up Baby). And I just fired off "DBCA!!!" The winner's time was 6.42 seconds. We estimated that mine was about two seconds faster. (Because anything with Katharine Hepburn in it is obviously old as sin, Babe came out in my lifetime, Gremlins is from the 80's and Willard was just a wild guess.)

We also decided, after watching the 200 dollar question: "Clumsy people are often described as what 'in a china shop?'" Option D was Wookie. Daniel and I decided that we are most definitely wookies in a china shop. For one thing, Chewbacca's destruction is worse than a bull because he is more intelligent and therefore makes a more conscious choice to destroy things. For another, we freaking love wookies. We were raised by an anything-associated-with-outer-space nerd extraordinaire. We should be a species all to ourselves, unfit to interact on a daily level with other human beings.

I just felt like injecting some random into your lives because school just hurts my brain a whole lot and thinking about wookies make that tightly wound coil loosen up just slightly.

Also, we ran an orienteering course in a state park today and I got the fastest time. (It was a crappy time to begin with, but not terrible considering this is my second course ever, and the first one in a year.) It was incredibly fun. I have never had the ability to be comfortable without knowing exactly where I am, and am therefore a really rad map-reader. I also, as I mentioned before, get a really huge adrenaline rush from winning. ^_^

I miss you guys. A lot. It's like...haha, it's like this wookie is inside my chest, and every time I wish I could be with you he makes an anguished noise and thumps his fists against my sternum.

God, bone names are so funny. I find that humerus. (HAHA! I MADE A PUN!)

I obviously need to stop writing now, as all the parts of my brain that make semi-intelligent things to say started turning into collective goo after about the first paragraph or so.

All my love is stretched both your ways.
-Anna

Many questions.

Is it possible to love someone so much you can delude yourself into thinking you have feelings for them?
I think it is. I think it's entirely possible. When you always light up as someone comes into a room, it's hard to tell if anything's changed.

And the thing is that I could try. And the worst part is that I think I want to.

When does friendly banter turn to flirting? And when do you press your face into his chest for a hug and realize you don't quite want to leave?

Why, when I push my toe to the line, does it start to smudge? And does he see it too?

Maybe I am deluding myself. It's happened before.