two things in life are sure

I lost my grandfather yesterday. I saw him last week and it was just awful to see him sick and uncomfortable and so damn old. But that's what happens when you're 95.

I was lucky to have him around for 30 years. To him I was the smartest, prettiest, nicest girl in the whole wide world and no one will ever love me as much as he did. Not Dave, not Jake, not my parents, not my friends, not no one, not no where, and that's just the way I want it.

When I was in the fifth grade all the coolgirls had autograph books. I don't remember exactly what he wrote, but I know that on his page tucked between a bunch of words he wrote that I can melt his heart with a mere glance. When I'm ready I'll dig out that old autograph book and let you know exactly what was in there, but that's the part that stuck. I decided at the age of ten that I wouldn't give anyone else the privilege of one of those glances unless there was some serious heart melting going on. I was clearly in possession of some pretty powerful stuff and it wasn't going to waste on just anyone.

Now if I could have only come face-to-face with the IRS yesterday maybe my bank account wouldn't have been sucked dry. I would have thawed their icy hearts and they would have spared the pain of chopping off my arm and Dave's leg. Thankfully they left Jake intact, and his magical tax deduction trick helped a little bit. A very little bit. I hope Jake likes Ramen.