Capital Letters.

So, my parents are doing their own thing today, which means it's a surprise for me later. My dad forgets sometimes that I'm a Grown Up and not a Little Girl, so this should be good.

We're having dinner together, and I've been instructed to Look Nice. There will be steak involved, and possibly some rice. I'm hoping.

And I'm trying to write a love story, but it's coming out all angsty. Normally, I'm all for the angst, but I want love, damnit. I think my subconscious is telling me to get a fucking boyfriend.

Mmmm, food.

Dinner was amazing. Perfect, even. There was more than one fork, and they were beautiful.