I don't buy for one second that this was Bill upstaging Hillary, or whatever Huff Po's stupid headline says. This was planned, even though we didn't know about it, and if he got the job done, so be it. That's all that matters. I am guessing Hillary and Bill WORKED TOGETHER on this humanitarian, not diplomatic mission.
Tomorrow is my birthday. It is one year before a birthday ending with a zero. We don't have huge plans, Super Steve and me. Super Girl is with her dad, so that leaves the three of us, me, Super Steve, and The Kid. Last year, I went out with friends and had too much sake, which was fun, but felt a little off because my beloveds weren't there. Not that the sushi bar and limitless sake is a place for a 5 year-old, but I missed them having them there with me.
The Kid and Super Steve have been talking about getting me a gift. It's hard shopping with The Kid because he is hyper and full of id, and his father justifiably stresses about embarking on such an endeavor alone with him. It's one of the ways Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) presents itself in our child. I find it sometimes endearing, sometimes exasperating. In any case, Super Steve is feeling the dilemma of getting THE GIFT with little to no time by himself in which to do it, since he is on daytime dad duty.
Super Steve is a fantastic gift-giver. I mean, for mother's day a couple of years back he made me a silhouette of The Kid that made me break down in tears. He had The Kid (who doesn't exactly sit still--see above) stand against a wall where he traced his profile including his rooster tail and what was left of his chubby baby face and painted it with black ink and framed it. How he got The Kid to be quiet about it, is beyond me. It was a complete surprise and I was moved beyond words. When we were courting, Super Steve slipped a letter under my studio door, written with a quill in real ink, no less, and sealed in wax, with all kinds of romantic poetry inside. And, pretty much I was hooked after that. His best gifts to me have been art, letters, things he has crafted out of his very own heart and imagination, and music he has thought I would like. Not that I am complaining about the Kitty Bag he gave me, or the Hula girl ash tray, the typewriter-shaped planter, or bracelets, a heart/sparrow locket, or records and records and books of poems; I love them all!! But, there is something about the way to my heart being in his thoughtful, creativity that I more than love. These gifts from Steve make every and all of my heartaches disappear, they makes arguments (fites) and misunderstandings dissolve. They make me feel loved.
The Question of the Day is a Birthday Present to Me-- so I hope you'll respond. Inspired by Shakesville about the best gift you've NEVER gotten. Like something you've always wanted, but no one has yet to deliver. A lot of the commentators misread and think it's about the best gift you have gotten, not NEVER gotten.
Anyway, what's your best gift from the heart (cue some cupids, butterflies, rainbows, and kittens)? Have you ever been given such a gift, or given such a gift that is so truly right on, and from someone's heart? It can be something bought; not all of us are married to, or lovers with, or related to, or friends with creative geniuses, after all. Here's a little Janis Joplin for my birthday pleasure. Tell me about your gift!!