Reblogging my husband, with whom I am well-pleased.

The last day of my thirties.

I love the feeling of reading something my husband has written or seeing something has done or in general watching him be awesome, because I always stand back and think, “Damn, I married that. Go me.”

Happy birthday, baby. I know already I’m going to be too busy to blog tomorrow, and I’ve been too busy writing like a fiend (as per your instructions) so I hope you forgive me a big dramatic happy fortieth post. I plan to be around all day tomorrow and love you up live and in person instead. Hope that’s a good trade. Love you always and forever.