Woo to Tommy and Suzi both!

Way to go, Tommy & Suzi!!

I'm a total traveler worrier. Mostly about Bob. We have a whole text when getting on the plane, text when landed thing that works.

With all of sarameg's car talk, I'm getting anxious about working out getting a new car before the situation is an emergency. I am still hoping to get to 200k (am at 191,500 now) and a good amount saved for a down payment but I think I may at least start test driving some cars so I really know what I'm going to be looking for.

I have now given my broker all the documents but the ones I have to sign and return. Cause I need a working printer. That's at work.

It's a miracle that someone with my organizational DISASTER was able to actually find everything. At least so much of it lives online these days.

YOU GUYS! It is RAINING and I'm not worried about how swampy stinky my car is gonna be!

I just read the Pope article. Holy shit, he actually used Jesus' words to back up his point about people doing good works?

He did! (Plus, I like to imagine him thinking to himself, "Take that, Lutherans!")

This was the first I have bought a car when I have an actual functioning car. Ok, one I expected to die randomly all the time, but still. I got real $ for is, too. Buh?

I gotta say, the 0% is nice. I technically could have bought the car in cash. But that would make my savings account slashed in half. So, no.

I'm a total traveler worrier. Mostly about Bob. We have a whole text when getting on the plane, text when landed thing that works.

I was watching a procedural the other day where the cops thought it was fishy the disappearance of a travelling spouse hadn't been reported earlier. But apparently they'd parted on bad terms, which was why they'd gone three days without talking.

Whuh-huh? I know my father was a professional traveller, but come on! We don't check in that often when we travel, and my parents check in with each other less. Don't be ridic.

However, lisah--the reason I quoted you was--you chose to worry about Bob. I mean, this is relatively recent for you, but no less important for you. Isn't that a bit weird? And cool--cool and weird. That at one point, you didn't know this guy, and at another point maybe you knew him but der, he could travel for ages who gives a fuck??? But now he's an intrinsic part of your life, dammit, and it's important that you are assured pf his safety and such, because it's a priority of yours.

Life changes. And you can't predict shit. "Don't go on a first date on Valentine's Day, bon!" "Sure I can temporarily do another martial art to get in shape for capoeira!" "It's okay that you're vanilla, Teppy!"

You just don't really know. Which is why if you're sure right now that your life is going to be some way, including that you're going to be alone, miserable, poor or whatever--sure, maybe you will. But stuff you wouldn't have predicted keeps happening, so don't get too caught up in prognostication.

I am in awe, tommyrot. That's an impressive to-do list to have all done. I bet your place looks spiff!

Matilda update of the day: This morning the mother of one of her classmates, a boy named Isaiah, sidled up to me and whispered, "I just thought you should know that Matilda's going to be getting a present today from Isaiah. He stayed up late last night and then got up at six this morning working on it. He just thinks she's the greatest thing since sliced bread, and he wanted to make her something for the end of the year. So... just to let you know. It's very heartfelt."

And a little while ago she came home with the gift, and it is KILLING ME.

Its contents include: a little cardboard box decorated with star stickers and a hand-drawn whale bouncing out of a polka-dotted wave, and pictures of flowers and leaves glued to the inside of the lid, and inside the box are Things Matilda Likes: shiny beads; smooth stones; a little fabric case with a bracelet inside with an iridescent beetle encased in Lucite; pointy twigs; a dried flower; a piece of tissue paper; a tiny wood chip that Isaiah scribbled all over with a blue ballpoint. And a note that says, "Dear Matilda, Have a really great Summer and see you next year! Love Isaiah."

It's exactly like the little box of rustic treasures in The Littlest Angel. All it needs is an old dog collar and a blue-winged butterfly.

That might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard.

Melt.

What was Matilda's response to such a treasure?

I... think she thanked him? I wasn't there, and she doesn't want to talk about it (Emmett teased her about having a crush, and she cried a bit), but she has been opening and closing it and going over all its contents again and again since she got home.