wow. two blogs in one day. don't you feel lucky.

i write this not because i have anything of particular importance to say, but rather i am avoiding doing homework.

i think it would be good of me to take this opportunity to tell you that i got a new cell phone. it is so much hipper than my old phone. i decided to stick with at&t, even though i decided that they are the spawn of satan, because i know that their service works very well in our apartment, and, since we don't have a landline, this is very important. i also decided that i should look into some of their new promotions, because they offer almost twice as many minutes for the same price i am paying per month now, which is also important since i don't have a landline. and so i went determinedly into the store on friday and purchased not only a new contract but a new phone. the battery on the old one was starting to go out. the new phone cost only $50 but it is fantastic and girly and has lots of fun features. WHEEEE.

on a weekly basis ara and i wrestle. i know what you're thinking. get your mind out of the gutter. i don't know if you could call it wrestling because i don't really know how to wrestle, but usually about once a week he will find a reason to pin me on the floor, imploring that i get free. he's a trained kung fu fighter, skilled in the art of defense, and so he has said on a couple of occasions that since i have no previous fighting experience, he wants to see my survival tactics. my survival tactics generally include tickling and biting, because really, when he is almost 50 pounds heavier than me and knows what he's doing, traditional defense methods just don't work that well.

after last night, though, i realized something that made me go coo.

every time we do this, when i fail to free myself he always tells me what to do. how to shift my weight, where to put my hands, what pressure points to get to overpower someone twice my size. and what i realized is that sure, he thinks it's fun, but what he is purposefully doing is teaching me how to help myself were i ever attacked and he wasn't there. he is protecting me by helping me protect myself.

as i thought about it it just made me go coo. there is something very attractive and wonderful about a man, who of his own accord takes pride and joy in keeping me safe. whether it's trying to replace the fuel filter in my car so that my car won't die between chicago and des moines, or walking on the street side when we go for a walk, he just loves to take care of me. and it's hard for me to stop talking about it because it makes me happy. that he enjoys making me happy makes me happy and it makes him happy that i'm happy.

and if you think about it, happy is a very weird word.