I really love my husband Vernon and I think he's really nice. He likes Pearl Jam and Supernatural and pistachios and forest fires. Just kidding about that last part. I don't even know where that came from, or why I said it. Sometimes I say weird things like that and Vernon loves me anyway. He loves me for all that I am and for all that I will be. Vernon has the name of an 80-year-old man, but he is only 32. I am 32 also, but I will soon be 33. Sometimes, I'll hear Vernon singing a song to the kids and that will make me smile because I never really hear him singing otherwise. Even to Pearl Jam. But Vernon says that he sings in the car when I'm not around. "Why don't you sing when I'm with you?" I ask. "Because it wouldn't be the same," he says. That's true. There is just something about singing in the car when you're all alone that is kind of magical. I know that. We sang together in the car once. Bon Jovi. Livin' on a Prayer. Somewhere in New York state, I think it was. And there was that time in high school on our way home from a Hootie and the Blowfish concert with some other friends when we sang Surfwax America by Weezer. And we sang the alternate parts, like in a round. "You take your car to work. I'll take my board. And when you're out of fuel, I'm still afloat," he sang. While I sang, "All along the undertow is strenghtening its hold. I never thought it'd come to this. Now I can never go home." Good song. Yep. I really love my husband Vernon.