About a month ago, I noted that one of my goals for 2013 was to makeover my blog. Here it is, February 4th and I can check that block. If you’re viewing this post in a reader you might want to click through and take a peek at my new digs. I rather enjoy the fresh look. What do you think?
When first he saw the post in which I resolved to makeover my blog this year, Jeff teased about it. Since when can you resolve for me to do something? he quipped. My answer to that, of course, would be since the day he said I do, but I think his question was more rhetorical so I just smiled sweetly in that way I know he can’t resist and sure enough, he put his technical genius to work for me as I trusted he would.
And as if that weren’t enough, he managed to top even that over the weekend. On Friday night, I posted this on Facebook:
That’s right. After spending four straight weekends devoting his constant time and attention to making over my blog, this husband of mine took me on a date. Not just any date, though. He took me on a date to see Kris Allen–knowing full well that Kris Allen is my celebrity crush. I could be wrong, but I’m not certain many husbands have that much swag.
The concert was in this super intimate venue downtown. So intimate, if fact, that while Jeff and I stood in the back of the room watching the opening act, Kris Allen himself came and stood right behind us. At one point, Jeff leaned into me and whispered, “He’s standing right behind us.” I couldn’t bring myself to look.
Eventually, another couple came and found seats in front of ours. And then the opening act wrapped up and Kris took the stage and–oh, be still my heart–that voice of his. I have a thing for voices and apparently I’m not the only one. The female half of the couple in front of us had similar reactions to mine, giving her husband the look every time Kris’ voice hit a certain vulnerable chord or when he did this hip thing that most assuredly puts Elvis to shame. Sigh. I was total puddle.
After the last song had been sung, Kris lingered on the dance floor shaking hands and indulging a bunch of thirty-something women with their requests for hugs. Do you want to get your picture with him? Jeff asked. No way I said, too shy. But he ignored me and led the way right to where Kris was standing.
I was a total moron. I was so nervous and really didn’t want to keep him long because that’s annoying and so I went in to the greeting all prepped for the standard picture pose–kinda reaching my arm behind–but Kris was expecting probably a handshake and hello (because, um, that’s what normal human beings do, isn’t it?!) and so he reached his hand out and I was all like oh yeah, hi. Moron, I’m telling you. And then Jeff couldn’t figure out the flash and so I was left standing there with my arm ever so slightly on Kris Allen and his arm ever so slightly on me and I was mortified because surely he felt me shaking. And so I say (totally aloud, mind you) to myself through gritted teeth, please hurry. The camera finally snapped and I thanked him and made a quick exit but not before making myself out to be either an a) total moron or b) creeper.
But now I have this photo, so at least there’s that.