Just Kristin

Why do I adore my hus­band? I offer this recent gift as rea­son #77536:

I have been using Pan­dora to drown out the clamor of the sales depart­ment — a hive of indus­tri­ous drones that flit about and around the web posse’s poor, gray echo cham­bers, bizzing adn buzzing all the while. All was well in the world of Django Rein­hardt Radio until The Hot Club of San Francisco’s ver­sion of “Les Chemins De L’amour” came on, and now I am feel­ing sappy. There is some­thing intrin­si­cally roman­tic — some­thing indica­tive of the slow, sure and yet syn­co­pated dance of a rela­tion­ship tried and true — in this piece. It con­jures images of D and I 30 years from now, still hold­ing hands, and, with­out hav­ing to think, adjust­ing our strides to accom­mo­date each oth­ers’ pace, mean­der­ing through the joys of life in a long-short-short-long-short-short, boom-tap-tap-boom-tap-tap, glide-tip-toe-glide-tip-toe (and, because we are who we cheesily are) oom-pah-pah-oom-pah-pah pas-de-deux. Watch your toes, D. :)

And now, because some­thing within me can­not bear a post of 100% corn, I will end with this burn­ing ques­tion:
Should that have been “each other’s pace”? “each oth­ers’ pace”? “each oth­ers’ paces”? Sweet jee­bus, I am an Eng­lish major after all! I hope they don’t come for my Red Pen Wield­ers Guild mem­ber­ship card…