Amy Writes

Last night, I dreamed that I was married to Billy Joel. It was one of those dreams where I was engaged in something else - and I just, mid-dream, remembered that I was married to Billy. Apparently it wasn't going well, because I didn't know where he was...I had to track him down and then, as if we hadn't spoken in days, there was a mad rush to answer the phone when it said "Billy Joel calling..." and a sweet, intimate profile picture like the one you see here popped up. Because, you know, we were married and all, and the best picture I had of him was a professional shot of him on stage. (I am aware of how weird it is not only to have this dream, but also to admit it. I am also aware of the potential risks I face by sharing this on the interweb, probably realized in jokes made at my expense by my real and wonderful husband, who is not Billy Joel. But come on. I know I'm not the only one.) I have spent a good portion of the week feeling like the kid in the...

I have a friend who regularly refers to this mental list he has of the nicest people he's ever met. I'm pretty sure the list doesn't actually exist on paper - it's just his way of saying that person he just met or is getting to know right now is reaaaally, reaaally nice. He meets a lot of people, so there's no way he could keep an accurate list. And if he had an actual list, I think it would be on his phone, anyway. Whether the list has been recorded or not, one thing is sure:  I am not on it.  And I'm (mostly) okay with that, because this is someone who knows me very well. We joke about this list. I know he loves our family, and I hope he knows how much we love his family - but we passed the need to prove anything to each other a long time ago, and so he knows the real me, and the real me is just not, in comparison, "nice."  IT'S OKAY. Resist the urge to tell me how nice I am and hear me out.  This came up in another conversation t...