Winter: it's not me, it's you.

Dear Winter,

It's time we break up. You've sucked the color out of this place for way too long. I'm tired of waiting for you to realize you've overstayed your welcome. You need to go. You're friend Spring is so much hotter, I'm sorry. Tell her to to stop putting on mascara and hurry up.

Took these on Valentine's Day, and yes...those are goosebumps. I'm a lucky guy. Liz is even hotter on the inside.

"It's Ay-Wee."

that's what she has been saying all night as she points to her chest. for the past year she's been gabbing, she always called herself "You." Whenever we'd point to a picture of her and ask "Who's that?" she'd answer, "It's You!" My heart skipped when I heard her say her own name for the first time.

It's Ay-Wee.