Feels like home

I'm planning to continue my musings on A.S. Byatt's Possession and gender issues, but not now. Just a short note here, mostly for myself.
After five years, it seems crazy (in its best sense) that we are still head over heels into each other. I won't start repeating myself and tire bore tell you details of my love life. Just that... in the evening he was expecting me with pancakes, then we listened to Shostakovich's Jazz Suite, John Cage's 4'33" (totally crazy thing), and a piano concerto of Liszt's (I'm not good at rememebring these). You know, all the things we do together just feel so good (I wonder if it's grammatically correct). And he knows me so well. He always chooses the right kind of music and perfume. It's a pity we have to part every night.
By the way, tomorrow we're resuming our Hindi studies. Feel slightly ashamed about it as haven't prepared much so far.

P.S. Bought the schockingly red nail varnish I'd been dreaming of for months. Shade called fame fatal. (Is it a play with the words or just terrible spelling?)

P.P.S. Mafia fancy dress party turned out quite well, though I have to admit costumes were the best part of it.

Speaking of love, don't forget to check out today's google homepage. Hilarious.We don't celebrate it though. We don't need that day if we can celebrate our love every day. (How pompous I am.)