Hooray!

The car turned up in Kent! The officer who called us (at 3:00 am this morning) said it "looks driveable." That must mean that the wheels are still attached, right?

We've yet to go pick it up, so more info later.

The mystery revealed

Turns out that "baby block cakes" are full-size (delicious, many-layered) cakes, decorated to look like baby blocks. They were a whole lot of fun to make, definately--I was in charge of piping the ABC's and the ducks. On a random note, I fell for one of those one-question quizzes, and got a good laugh as a result:

Thea -- [noun]: A person with a sixth sense for detecting the presence of goblins 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

By weekday, a mild-mannered dental assistant. By weekend...

For the last month or so, I've been working for my friend Ashley the Pastry Chef in her gourmet dessert catering business. She's teaching me tons, and I'm quite enthusiastic about this. In fact I'm so enthusiastic that if you've talked to me recently, you're probably sick of hearing about Ashley and her fancy desserts, and I apologize, but seriously, I'm having a great time learning the tricks of the pastry trade. I made meringue this morning for fun.

I'm not joking.

And if you know me at all, you know about my sweet tooth--it's enormous. Putting me in a kitchen with gourmet desserts is dangerous, not least because "official taster" has somehow worked its way into my job description. I'm pretty sure I've gained a few pounds already in hazelnut cookies and drinking chocolate.

Speaking of teeth, the irony of my two jobs is not lost on me--my new favorite joke is, "during the week, I solve the problem; over the weekend, I create it." Dentistry and sweets. Perfect. At least I have free dental, right?

Tomorrow I go to work for Ashley, and I hear we're making "baby block cakes." I'm not sure what these are, though several possibilities come to mind: cakes shaped like alphabet blocks? Mini cakes shaped like babies? Or just regular old rectangle cakes, but small? I don't know. But I'll find out, and then I'll tell you.

Crafty Coyote: The Christmas Edition

In an earlier entry I mentioned Christmas gifts--how I was making them, every one, this year, and how it would be dirt cheap. I mean, heartfelt and crafty, not cheap. Did someone say cheap?

Anyway, now that the holiday has come and gone, I can unveil to you my grand scheme for thrifty Christmas success. Here is a complete gift:

That's what they looked like, packed up and ready to go. The contents of one gift may or may not include one or more or none of the following:

A stack of hand-drawn greeting cards (blank white cards purchased in bulk--years and years ago--and decorated with calligraphy, felt pen illustrations and/or metallic gel pen highlights), attractively wrapped with hemp cord left over from the hemp craze circa 2001.

Origami ornaments. Remember the origami boxes I mentioned several times over the last month (usually in conjunction with Arrested Developement)? They're super easy to make, and I bet you could come by directions online. I made boxes mostly, though a few stars and snowflakes worked their way in there, and then threaded gold-braided ribbon through 'em and tied a little loop on one end so the whole thing could hang, attractively, from a bough.

Chocolate chip cookies! We can thank Ashley for the most amazing choc. chip recipe ever. These bad boys have uber-dark chocolate, milk chocolate, espresso dark chocolate and sugar-free Belgian chocolate in them instead of plain old Tollhouse (not that there's anything wrong with Tollhouse). I wrapped them in brown wax paper, tied them hemp and a calligraphied tag, and dropped them in the bag.

As for the wrapping, it's exactly what it looks like: brown paper lunch bags, with hemp cord and a gift tag. The gift tags were either hand-stamped or (an idea I blatantly stole from Erin--because it's absolutely brilliant--and therefore take no credit for but will definately use again) cut from leftover Christmas cards. The one shown was one of this year's cards that was sent to my work by another office. It's a gorgeous card, and now it lives on in an attractive gift tag.

Voila!

If you have questions or ideas, I'd love to hear them--especially the ideas. I had a blast making the gifts, and the best part was definately putting each one together for my loved ones. You know, designing cards specifically with my mom in mind, or trying to pick out the ornament that most reminds me of my brother, and so on.

I'm curious to hear what everyone else came up with for fun and thrifty gifts.

A tragedy

We just discovered that our copy of Jesus Christ Superstar: The Motion Picture Soundtrack was in our car, wherever it may be. We also discovered that, unlike the other CDs we lost, Superstar was not in our computer library, nor was it on either of our iPods.

It's one thing to steal our car. But to steal Jesus Christ Superstar? That's another thing completely.

To help soften the blow, here is a picture of Gunner, atop the cat palace Mitch constructed out of old boxes and packing tape:

Book Review: STARDUST and CORALINE, both by Neil Gaiman

Somewhere in the acknowledgements of STARDUST, Neil Gaiman thanks a slew of authors (C.S. Lewis included) for showing him that fairy stories can be for adults and not just for children. This is exactly what STARDUST is: a fairy story for adults.

Generally when something is referred to as "for adults" that means either a) that it's boring, or b) that there's sex involved. However, STARDUST is neither boring nor sleazy (though it's not without its romantic moments)--the story moves along rapidly, through the village of Wall and the Land of Faerie, switching from character to character, subplot to subplot, in such a seamless fashion that I was reminded often that authors like Neil Gaiman are why I love reading. The man can tell a story, without a doubt.

RATING: 4

Which brings me to CORALINE.

While CORALINE seemed marketed more explicitly toward kids, it was a whole heck of a lot scarier than STARDUST. The eerie environment and creepy characters, however, merely added to CORALINE's charm, as did the illustrations by Dave McKean (you may or may not recall that Gaiman and McKean teamed up on the movie Mirrormask--which was very cool).

See, Coraline lives in a flat with a door that opens into another flat--the flat where everything is better. The one catch, of course, is that the mother in that flat wants to keep Coraline. Forever.

The conditions on which she wants to keep Coraline, as you might imagine, are not good. The story that unfolds is spooky and utterly absorbing, and the book is short and perfect for times when you're bedridden with the flu (in fact, having a fever when you read this book seems to spice things up).

I loved CORALINE, maybe better than STARDUST, because Coraline was such a fascinating character, and Gaiman let her carry the whole book. A strong character leading the plot along always makes me happy.

RATING: 5

Warm and fuzzy

Since the news broke about our stolen car, I've been humbled by the response from the folks at Oikos: at least five people have offered to let us borrow their cars, either indefinately or on an as-needed basis, and plenty more have offered us rides, whenever we need them. Still more have come forth with offers to help in any way they can.

We keep asking ourselves what it is we need to learn through all this, but maybe it's as simple as learning to accept help when we really do need it, though I'm sure there's plenty more to be learned as well--how little we need our possessions, but how much we rely on them, for example. How stupidly attached to them we become. I don't miss having a car nearly as much as I miss having our car. Alas.

But thank you everyone, for all your help already. It's good to know we're so completely surrounded by wonderful people.

A good trip, though sadly eventful

It began well enough. Mitch's mom and her boyfriend recently bought a house in an "active adult community," so we spent the first few days of our stay in Arizona helping them get set up in the their new home and tooling around the new, unfinished community in golf carts. We ate lunch at the clubhouse, toured the new, unfinished Sports Center and walked through finished, fully-furnished models of the model homes (decorated in charming, if slightly ridiculous, themes).

Here is a picture of a sunset, taken from the back step of the new house:

Here is a picture of Mitch's mom, Teresa, and I, baking snickerdoodles and pretending that we're on a cooking show:

All was lovely and sunny and happy until New Year's Day, at approximately 12:15 am, when I woke up suddenly and spent the rest of the night on the bathroom floor. As it turns out, I came down with a bad flu that kept me in bed for all of Monday (I am prone to exaggeration, I know, but this is absolutely not an exaggeration--I was weak and feverish and made it out of bed once, the entire day, to go to the bathroom) and a good part of Tuesday. By Wednesday I was up and moving, though not quite at full speed, and Mitch and I set off in a borrowed car to visit some friends in Globe, AZ.

Here is a picture of Globe, taken through the window of the old courthouse, which has now been converted into an art center:

Our Globe friends recently opened a coffee shop, so we spent a good part of the time sitting around at the coffee shop, drinking coffee and visiting or sitting around at their house, playing Guitar Hero (or watching Dora the Explorer with their adorable daughter) and visiting. The night that we spent in Globe was the night of the full moon, so when I woke up in the wee hours to use the restroom (our guest room was not attached to the main house), I had the distinct pleasure of walking through the backyard in the blazing moonlight, with all the constellations in full view.

Beautiful.

Here is a photo of Dezi, who opened the coffee shop, who also married Mitch and me four years ago:

Here is a photo of me watching Dora the Explorer with Laura and her daughter, Eowyn:

...and here is a pretty picture of Austin, Laura, Eowyn and I walking off into the Arizona sunset:

We drove back to Mitch's mom's on Thursday night and stayed there until this morning, when we drove, flew and shuttled our way back to the hotel where we'd parked our car for the week only to find...

...that our car had been stolen.

Here is a photo of my sad face:

If anyone sees a dejected-looking Subaru wagon wandering the streets of SeaTac, please tell it to call home--we miss it dearly. We spent the evening talking to the hotel staff, the police, my parents and the Airporter Shuttle before finally managing to make it, at last, home.

Here we are. We're glad to be here. Even if Armand, Subaru of the Night (as he was fondly called) cannot be with us.

So long, 2006!

(I'm publishing this early because I'll be in Arizona for New Year's, so here it is. Also, here is last year's post. Looking back, I realize that Arrested Developement made both lists--not that I'm obsessive, really.)

This year I'm thankful for (in no particular order):

Oikos! And the delightful experience of (at last) being a member of a church body

four years of marvellous marriage (to the most magnificent Mitch)

creme brulee from the Mount Bakery (served at the Temple Bar)

Carina Round, The Disconnection

my family, who is made up of very neat people that I love more and more all the time

Arrested Development

Monday nights at Boundary Bay, dancing to the Gallus Brothers

contacts! (Goodbye, glasses)

the blessing of playing shows, and writing songs, and hanging out with people who play good music

shopping at Goodwill

my little bro, who periodically calls in the middle of the night to tell me that he loves me

the motivation to actually read the Bible, and to really study and learn tons

double tall americanos (black) from Caffe Adagio

Jonathan Foer at Village Books, and the brilliant things he said about writing and art

our cats, who make me laugh but who are excellent at snuggling

Greg Brown at the Nightlight, and that awesome rendition of "Evening Call"

four hour evenings at the Temple Bar with Morgan

origami boxes, origami paper

baking, and those amazing macaroons that Ashley made with bitter caramel buttercream filling

riverboating in Missouri (turtles! turkey vultures!)

The Black Keys, Rubber Factory

learning "Hallelujah" on the guitar

and yes, my new Kitchenaid mixer. It's amazing.

Book Review: THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA, by C.S. Lewis

The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe

If I were to give out an award for "Most Re-read Series in My Book Collection," it would, without a doubt, go to to The Chronicles of Narnia. Unlike Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings (which I'm currently re-reading again), Narnia does not demand that you hand over a significant portion of your life in order to read the series start to finish--it does not, in fact, even ask that you read them start to finish, and this is part of the series' appeal. You can pick up one little hundred-page children's book whenever you feel like a dose of Narnian folklore--you can read that one book, and then put it down. You do not have to go on to book two, or four, or seven.

That is what I did just now. After reading a many-paged literary thriller (Possession, by A.S. Byatt), partially set in Victorian England, I was ready for a good, solid, quick dose of swashbuckling adventure--and this is exactly what The Chronicles of Narnia specialize in. Brevity, and swashbuckling.

THE LION, THE WITCH & THE WARDROBE, first in the series (though Book 6, The Magician's Nephew, is a prequel to LION--if you're about chronology, you might read that one first), is the one that everybody knows about and has read, or had read to them, at least once, long ago. It is also the one that the movie (the movie, to be released on Dec. 9--not that I'm counting) is based on, the one with the mean White Witch, and the great lion, Aslan, and giants and quirky professors and fauns and magical wardrobes and little English children running around saying things like "Sharp's the word," and "Jolly good."

Brevity, swashbuckling. Upcoming movie. You really should have read this one already.
----------------

Prince Caspian

PRINCE CASPIAN, the swashbuckling second book (or fourth, depending on how old your edition is) of The Chronicles of Narnia, features usurping uncles, a rightful king, a fresh breath or two of the Narnian air, all four Pevensie children, and, you guessed it, talking animals. If you're reading this one, you probably already read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, so there's no sense in me going on and on about it.

I don't know that I've heard CASPIAN called anybody's favorite chronicle (most people seem to weigh in with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which I agree with heartily, though I'm also partial to The Magician's Nephew, and rather intrigued by The Last Battle), but that doesn't mean you should skip it--heavens, no! You should skip not a single Chronicle. PRINCE CASPIAN is chockfull of Narnian battle tactics, plus it's the last time you see all four Pevensie kids being Narnian royalty together.

(Quick: how many times have I said the word "swashbuckling" in regards to The Chronicles of Narnia? I think I'm about to stop, though. I'll come up with some other really good silly word.)
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The Horse & His Boy

Long ago when I actually paid Blogdrive to host my site, they let me have all kinds of fun polls and things, and so I posted a poll asking all five of my readers what Narnia book was their favorite. Of the four that responded (and this includes me voting for both myself and my husband), the results were split down the center between The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and THE HORSE & HIS BOY.

Having never been a big fan of HORSE (Dawn Treader forever! Woo!), this struck me as curious. Ye who voted for THE HORSE & HIS BOY, please come forward and help me out. I want to know.

Which isn't to say that I don't like THE HORSE & HIS BOY. Oh, I do, but it just never made its way into my favorites. In fact, I'd have to say the second half of the book is awesome, but the first half didn't quite measure up. I know this isn't much of a review, but mostly I'm wondering what you, dear 5 readers, have to say.

Ready, set, COMMENT!
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The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

And so we arrive at my favorite Narnian chronicle. I love it for the spirit of high adventure, for the discovery of unknown islands and for the strange and beautiful things dwelling upon those islands; for the transformation of Eustace, and the brief but lovely appearances of Aslan. I love Reepicheep, the valiant Mouse, and the awe-inspiring Last Sea; I love the lilies of the Silver Sea and even the smallest glimpse of Aslan's own country.

However: I do get tired of Lucy's being singled out constantly as "a girl," and therefore being bustled out of harm's way simply because she is "a girl." I like Lucy as a character, but do get tired of the way the other characters treat her. That is my only complaint. Everything else is Lewis as his brilliant, imaginative best.
------------------

The Silver Chair

I have to say, THE SILVER CHAIR has grown on me over the years. It never was one of my favorites, given the noticable lack of Pevensies and my particular lack of affection for Jill Pole (though she does come around, as everyone in the Chronicles eventually does), but this time through I found myself absolutely loving the scenery--Aslan's Mountain, especially, and Underland as well. Lewis's description of the first is pure and joyful, if perilous, while his description of the second is eerie and memorable--the darkness and silence stuck with me even after I put the book down. Aslan's character in SILVER CHAIR is slightly more stern, which I liked (the more moods of Aslan shown, the better!), and the Marsh-wiggle is wonderful. I had forgotten just how much there is to love about this book.
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The Magician's Nephew

THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW solidly remains one of my favorite Chronicles. The Creation of Narnia! The destruction of Charn! The Evil Empress Jadis! I love how NEPHEW ties together so much of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, while also remaining an excellent story in its own right. THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW introduces some of my very favorite locations--the eerie, failing land of Charn; newborn Narnia; that mysterious Garden; the Wood Between the Worlds--while also showing yet more aspects of Aslan's character. I come back to this one again and again, even sometimes skipping the other six just to reread THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW.

RATING: 5

Brave or foolish? You decide.

Somehow I found myself in the middle of the Bath & Body Works REALLY BIG SALE yesterday. Why? Because I wanted a particular kind of lip gloss. Did I wait in line for fifteen minutes to buy a five dollar tube of lip gloss? I certainly did.

Why? I'm still not sure.

I guess it's cheaper than therapy

We're fresh back from Christmas at my dad's, where the event of the evening was my brother's brand new Wii (I got a Kitchenaid mixer in cobalt blue, which is stinking rad but a whole lot less fun for the whole family to enjoy).

Now, I've never been one for video games, not least because the controllers make my hands ache something fierce (I have a medical excuse for this, really), but the Wii is cool. I was actually able to play. We plugged in Wii boxing and went at it.

Watching everyone flail around was hysterical, and by the end of the first round, my dad and brother were both breaking a serious sweat. By the end of the second, they were red in the face and breathing hard, and these are both very fit, very athletic guys. My brother boxed my husband, my dad boxed my stepmom, I boxed my husband and brother--it was quality family time of the very strangest sort.

My first match ended up being against my husband, which was disconcerting because the characters are configured to actually look like the players, and Mitch's looked remarkably like him. But we got to playing--and I absolutely schooled him. Sure, he was still figuring out to block with the controllers and he won the next match, but I'm not sure he ever even landed a punch that first match--he went down and never got up. It was amazing, really. (I warned him that this bit of info was making its way to the blog, and he assured me that his dignity would survive intact.)

Let's just say that I'm not used to playing video games, and I'm definately not used to winning, so this, my friends, was a good night.

Order of Festivities

This year is busy as always, but somehow I feel like Mitch and I are finally getting the hang of this "four Christmases in three days" schedule. Our craziest year by far featured no less than five dinners within 24 hours (two Christmas Eve, three Christmas Day), none of which were our own, at our own house. Last year marked the first time we had our own stockings, and this year marks our first official Christmas breakfast--complete with guest. Our weekend looks like this:

Friday night. My dad's birthday dinner. We put 55 candles on an 8" layer cake and then lit them all. We call it the "birthday inferno," because it's just that dramatic--the cake radiated heat and everything, and when Dad blew them out he splattered wax all over the table. It was rad.

Last night. Carolling/dinner/candlelit liturgy at church. This was great fun, not least because there was a complete overdose on Christmas carols and an honest-to-goodness hayride through the York neighborhood. The church looked gorgeous, the food was delicious, the kids were adorable (and hysterically funny) as they sang "Silent Night" and "Away in the Manger"--also, I got to sing soprano in a quartet ("O Magnum Mysterium"). The whole evening was a whole lot of fun.

Tonight (Christmas Eve). Christmas at my dad's, with my aunt, uncle and two cousins. Food! Family! Presents! No birthday candles, though.

Tomorrow morning. Breakfast and stockings at our house. Eggs, grits and coffee are on the menu, and our friend Manis will be joining us for the morning. I mentioned that the cats have stockings this year, and I have it on good authority that Santa's bringing them Fancy Feast, bizzy balls and some crazy toy that looks like a huge fluorescent fur ball with arms. That should be entertaining.

Tomorrow midday. Mitch's family celebration. More family! food! and presents! This one seems to get bigger and bigger every year. The niece and nephew are back in town, so that'll be fun--I always seem to end up playing cars and hanging out with the little ones rather than sitting around having sophisticated adult conversation.

Tomorrow evening. Dinner at my mom's. This one marks the offical closing of the Christmas season with the last round of food, family and presents (and probably a Christmas nap, at some point)--it will be lovely.

So, that's the madness of our Christmas weekend. Mercifully, all our family lives close by so we don't have to brave the roads (though I did brave the express lane at Haggen's this morning, and that was equally scary), and I'm excited to see everyone.

May you all have a wonderful holiday! Merry Christmas.

Book Review: THE WEIGHT OF GLORY, by C.S. Lewis

I've read a lot of C.S. Lewis in my day. In fact, chances are good that I'm reading a C.S. Lewis book right now, regardless of when you happen to come across this post (as I write, I'm just beginning to reread The Magician's Nephew)--chances are, I'm rereading a C.S. Lewis book. They're just that good.

Of all his books, THE WEIGHT OF GLORY remains one of my favorites, particularly the title essay "The Weight of Glory." I actually found a version of this essay online: here is the link. Some of my most remembered quotes come from that essay.

A collection of Lewis's sermons and lectures and essays, the book itself is slim, easy to pick up and put down, and to reread when you feel in need of a little Lewis recharge. That is what I needed this time through though, honestly, I didn't finish it this second time because my copy of Culver's Systematic Theology showed up in the mail while I was right in the middle--THE WEIGHT OF GLORY was put down and never resumed, since Culver is quite a commitment and I'm sure he'll keep me busy for months (if you've not seen it, Systematic Theology is enormous--roughly the size of a small coffee table).

So, I got distracted, from both the book and my point. To sum things up, I love this book. Also, don't skip the introduction--there are some wonderful anecdotes about C.S. Lewis in there. Absolutely charming.

I can't believe the Faint came to Bellingham and I missed it!

My heart breaks a little each time I remember this.

(The title of this post is a link to a video of the Faint playing a brand new song at WWU. *sigh*)

Not quite an explosion, but close

When I got home tonight, the apartment smelled like gas. Now, sometimes I think I smell gas and I get all psyched out before finally convincing myself that I'm being melodramatic and should knock it off, but this, my friends, was an actual gas leak. I knew it, down to my toes.

Mitch hadn't noticed, because he'd been in the apartment all day (ah, winter break), so we both prowled around the apartment sniffling away before finally determining the back left burner on our gas stove to be the culprit.

To make a long story short, a potentially eventful evening proved rather uneventful (thankfully) as a nice man from the gas company dropped by, relit the pilot light that had gone out and assured us that all was, in fact, well and that we would not be exploding or dropping off peacefully in our sleep any time in the foreseeable future.

Or at least not because of the back left burner of our stove.

In other, less morbid news, I finally bough my own copy of the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack. Why? Because the one I'd copied illegally onto Mitch's computer was lost when the hard drive crashed last night.

So far it's been a rough week.

The aforementioned stockings

(However, my mom did take pity on us this year and she quilted some beautiful new stockings for the bookshelf that have since replaced the Goodwill felt stockings. This picture was taken to accompany the earlier entry, but sadly was only just now uploaded onto my computer. I posted it anyway.)

Book review: AHAB'S WIFE, by Sena Jeter Naslund

The Ahab of AHAB'S WIFE is, of course, Captain Ahab of Moby Dick--a book that I have never read. Though assured that I could appreciate AHAB'S WIFE just fine without reading Moby Dick, I did find that AHAB'S WIFE lacked context without Moby Dick to flesh it out, much like The Hours lacked context without the backdrop of Mrs. Dalloway.

This isn't to say that AHAB'S WIFE doesn't stand alone as a novel--it does--but merely that a book about another book, if one hasn't read the first book before reading the second, seems a little off. I've never cared for the whole "book about an obscure character in a classic book" thing much, because it strikes me as somewhat pretentious, as if the second author is accusing the first of leaving something out of the original story. I understand that this isn't always the case, and that some really imaginative books have come from this technique, but I just tend not to like it. I say, if you're writing a story, write your own story. Come up with something new, don't just give us a "fresh" view of a "classic" story.

(The one exception to this, I think, are reinterpretations of Biblical stories. I really love those, because they make me look at the original story in a whole new way, regardless of how many times I've read and reread the story.)

When it was all said and done, I think I did like AHAB'S WIFE. It was a struggle at times, because, for all its lively moments, the book plods along at about the pace you'd expect from a book about a sea captain's wife--waiting and waiting and writing about stuff. The middle two-hundred pages sucked me right in because things actually happened, but the beginning and end took some muscle to get through. To be honest, I didn't care much for Naslund's writing. It was good, sure, but it wasn't my cup of tea, and it took a long time to get used to, though eventually I did and was able to move on in spite of the overly (self-consciously) deep musings she stuck in all over the place.

So, the only problems I had with AHAB'S WIFE were purely personal preferences. Some people would be totally justified in really liking it, and though I ultimately liked it, I can't say I'd recommend it to you.

RATING: 3

Addendum to last entry

Also, Mitch gave me a tea pot, to replace the one so tragically broken by our cats (it was a good tea pot--we bought it at an antique store/gas station somewhere in the middle of the state, because the bathroom was for customers only and we needed to make a purchase quickly. It served us well!).

The tea pot itself is adorable, and I'm happy as a clam to have, not only a new tea pot, but one similarly colored to the old one and with the added feature of a little mesh basket for holding loose teas. Best of all? On the box, it says "iPot". How clever.

Here is a picture of my awesome tea pot.

Happy anniverary to us!

Four years! Yee ha! Mitch gave me this card that made me laugh. It has a picture of a sandwich on the outside, and it says:

"I was walking
to my car,
and I saw this lady
I recognized from the deli,
the sandwich lady, and I
made up this song:

'You are the sandwich lady!
Come on,
sandwich lady!
Go, go,
sandwich lady!"

So now I think maybe I'm creative."

Then, on the inside, it says:

"You're creative. You tell me."

And then he wrote some cute stuff about liking me.