some days...i have to think really really hard

I keep finding myself in the serious pose.

Anyone that knows me likely has no clue what this looks like. So here’s a glimpse of me striking my serious pose.

Well..okay maybe it's not entirely there. But if you put Jay's expression on my body you'd totally get it. It's always with my right elbow propped up at my desk. Head resting on my fists. Staring at my planner or computer in deep and usually tortured thought.

And likely exhaling rather loudly.

I get that trait from my father.

While I could go on at length about the two (yes, count them, two) hour long phone conversations I’ve had with Seth the Southern Charmer in the past two days, for the time being I’m practicing some restraint.

And you can ask all my friends, who have experienced the Amy in post hour long conversation with charming guy mode—they will no doubt tell you that restraint does not come easy.

It’s all rule #115’s fault: Never walk away from a crasher in a funny jacket.

Wait. Wrong rulebook. I meant the rule I declared about how I would tell the guys about the blog and the whole Catholic Herald thing once we got past the beaming smiles and sending flirts stage.

I think two phone conversations and a week’s worth of emails qualifies.

So I typed up an explanation, sent it to my proofer (a.k.a. Lauren) for revisions, and emailed it off.

And now I wait.

Just about every other chick flick has that plotline where someone didn’t reveal something in a relationship and thus appeared to be deceitful, creating some massive blow-up, inducing tears and wonders of “Oh my goodness oh my goodness will they ever find happiness again?” on the part of the audience. The moral of the story is simple: Tell the truth right away. Then you get to hold hands all the time instead of only part of the time.

Well. We’ll see if that moral actually applies to real life.