So we got home from dinner last night and I was just thinking about defacing the polaroids (which andrew hates! . . ."Why are you taking your face out? I don't like that. Not at ALL!" . . .it's sweet) and then I saw the scissors innocently sitting on the dining room table (which has served for the last month as a polaroid staging area). I found a photo from the "stack of photos where I hate my face" (it's a big stack) and started cutting. Half way through I realized my face was kind of heart shape so I just went for it. When I was done I ran into Andrew's office, "I have a present for you!" and handed him a little heart with my face on it. He absolutely loved it and set it on his monitor so he could see it all of the time. Now we were both happy. I lost a face and he gained one. - - the first of many, I presume. Then I slept on it. I woke up this morning and thought it could be interesting to play around with what is going on in my head (or in this case what was going on - - the text is a direct quote from the first love letter I ever wrote Andrew). I'll let you know how it goes. I will say that I never thought defacing myself could be this much fun, and so very liberating.