CASS
*puts away strawberries*

BETH
Ooo, toast. *high-pitched voice* Yay!

CASS
Hee. For a second, I thought you were voicing the strawberries.

BETH-AS-STRAWBERRIES
No, no! We don't eat toast! We eat sunshine and unicorns!

CASS
Wait, uni--

BETH-AS-STRAWBERRIES
You should see our traps.

Saturday, Beth and I dressed in ivory dresses and walked across a balcony and down a set of stairs to the gentle plucking of a cello.

Reader, I married her.

Monday (not Sunday, since we were unconscious with The Tired), I cut off nearly all my hair.

Today I'm back at work. And I've changed my desktop again.

( I think this is just going to be a new thing I do. Until I stop. )

This all sounds very dry and unenthusiastic, but...

Reader, I married her.

That's all, really. That's everything.

Beth:
but how about kleenex

Cass:
Kleenex, huh.
Yeah, I'm not so sure that's on the list.
*reads list*
Hm...
I'm seeing... batteries...
...ham...
...all of mistful's books...
...chinese food...
...more batteries...
...oh.
There's the Kleenex.
I will get it for you.
After I get the ham.

Beth:
i see.
ham.
and no chinese food

Cass:
Lots of ham, actually.
Wagon-loads.

Beth:
no ham
ew

Cass:
Pork?
Bacon?
Hocks?
Feet?

Beth:
no pig
treyf

Cass:
Fritters?
Skins?
Chitlins?
Cutlets?

Beth:
ahem

Cass:
Ribs?

Beth:
TREYF

Cass:
HEE.

When Beth hears a bit of instrumental music she likes, she will without conscious thought start choreographing dancers to it. When I hear a bit of instrumental music I like, I instantly picture in my mind's eye what camera shots should go with it.

Are we pretentious? Are we just weird? YOU DECIDE.

Poll #854547 Who's the best birthday precious ever?
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 16

Who is a precious?

Did you wish there was a "the ring!" option?

Birthday cake?

How many birthday girls are there in the room? Named Beth? Who is also the prettiest girl in the whole world and whom I love utterly?

What's the best birthday present you've ever received?

BETH THE AGNOSTIC JEW
You know, I just don't understand what the point of communion is without transubstantiation.

CASS
...

BETH THE AGNOSTIC JEW
I mean, it seems like making the tea-and-coffee hour after services into a religious sacrament.

CASS
...

BETH THE AGNOSTIC JEW
A Jesus-related snack, if you will.

CASS
I've never loved you more than I do right now.

The denizens of the downstairs, I am certain, heard approximately the following--


*mumble-conversation-mumble*

*mumble-discussion of wedding-mumble*

*mumblemumblerumblingmumble--*

Beth:
WE ARE NOT HAVING CHILDREN BEFORE WE'RE MARRIED.

*mumble-hysterical laughter-protestations of seriousness-mumble*

*BETH starts laughing hysterically*

*like, really, she's falling over and kind of hiccuping*

*and there are tears. she's laughing so hard she has to get tissues*

*then she sighs happily*

BETH: I love medical accidents.

And now, join us for a moment of Romantic Theatre...


CASS: I thought about it continuously, how cleaning the floor under there [the eaves of our abode] was a sign of my constant love for you. I did it only because of how much I loved--

BETH: 'Loved'?

CASS: Love! Love, I mean love, present tense!--

*Beth's trembling lower lip*

BETH: And yet, you didn't get me any presents for my birthday...

CASS: I did get you presents, I did, they just haven't all shown up--

BETH: Yes well, I think someone should just get over here and give me some extra fucking kisses.



And meanwhile, this is our four-year anniversary. I love you, sweetheart. Present tense.

BETH: I love you. And to prove my love, I'm going to eat my eclair upstairs so it doesn't taste like hummus.

CASS: ... How does this prove your love?

BETH: It's complicated. Even I don't fully understand it.

(CASS tucks BETH into bed.)

CASS: There's my precious darling--

(the linens make a flying leap at BETH's head)

BETH: *squawk!*

CASS: Oh dear -- perhaps a bit vigorous with the preciousing.



Brought to you by the 'We Really Want to Keep These Memories Forever' Brigade and Tea Service

BETH
You left your underwear here again, you know.

CASS
Dammit! Again?

BETH
Yes, and it's one of your favorites. The blue stripey one?

CASS
But I have that one.

(Some amount of discussion concerning the fact that I have more than one pair of stripey blue underwear. I like stripes. The long and the short of it being that--)

BETH
Both of our pairs were in the laundry. I folded them.

(I walk into the bedroom and examine the innards of my chest of drawers.)

CASS
Sweetheart, I have mine here. I'm looking at them.

BETH
But... I have two pairs of them here.

(A very short, but penetrating silence.)

CASS AND BETH
Ew! Ewww! The underwear of strangers! Touching us! EWEWEWEWEW!

BETH
We'll never be clean again.

CASS
We'll have to burn it all.

(Exeunt, shuddering.)

*Beth, baking*

"Cinnamon is love."

*Cass, eyeing a pack of Cinnaburst*

"That can't be right. I tried to chew some cinnamon gum, and it gave me an allergic reaction. Are you saying your love gives me allergic reactions?"

"That's not real cinnamon," says she; "that's just a chemical pretending to be cinnamon. It's not surprising that you're allergic to false love."

And once more, the world is set aright.

For one reason or another, the topic of British methods of pain relief during birthing comes up. Unfortunately, so does the following conversation.

CASS: An electric shock machine? They're right, it's mad.

BETH: The idea is that it interrupts the electrochemical feedback mechanism.

CASS: It's electric shocks.

BETH: You can't feel it. Really. I've had it done.

*Cass decides to speak before thinking*

CASS: I don't believe you.

*Beth's classic horrified expression, that manages to convey a combination of "oh dear God" and "any second now, I'm going to start mocking you, and then there will be no hope of recovering your dignity"*

CASS: Oh wait. *beat* I was there.

Pulling the blanket up over her, kissing her hair.

Love me?

Love you. Best of everyone.

Love you.

And her hair smells red and just a little sharp. The braid falls down past her shoulders.

In the mail today was a small catalogue from some unknown bookseller. I say, "What's this?"

Beth replies, "Holy vanity press, Batman."

I love this woman.

I'll be saying farewell to the computer for a while -- I've got work from one of the various contributors to the Keep Cass Well-Fed Foundation, and Beth, after glimpsing the Cornell project, has decided that she need never eat or sleep again.

"It's all here!" she cries in delight.

What is, love?

"Patterns! How to make patterns without twelve pieces of specialized equipment and a CAD program! Thank God!"

Does this mean I can have a skirt?

"Yes! Yes it does! Now go away and let me play with my toy."

So we're watching TLC's While You Were Out, and a drop ceiling has just been revealed onscreen. Beth, upon seeing this, says tones of deep shock, "Oh my God. That shouldn't be in a private home."

I look at the ceiling with new understanding. Is it illegal? Is it prohibited due to health codes? Was someone dead/incarcerated in a minimum-security establishment shortly after filming?

"I mean," Beth continues in all seriousness, "it's bad taste."

She is even now demanding that I tell her why that's funny.

For all that writing may be a mindfuck: I'm revising a story, at this very moment, as Beth feeds me green grapes from the side.

"The lap of writing luxury," she says, and stuffs another grape into my mouth.

BETH
Here, let me get the prescription for you.

She begins to look around for a place to put her ICE CREAM CONE. She sees CASS in her low-cut LEOTARD. She gets an idea.

BETH
Hold still.

She places the cone point first into Cass's CLEAVAGE. It stays.

CASS
Thank God you love me.

BETH
Why's that?

CASS
Because death and maiming is only the beginning of the hideous tortures I could devise.

Beth takes her cone back and smiles cheerily up at Cass.

BETH
At least it's not leaking.