For some reason I pictured HatGirl. . .

. uh. . .

hmmmm. . .

as someone who'd be adorning a "hat".

I like her hair too.

She used to wear a hat when I first met her. Hmmm, I don't think I even have any pictures of her with her hat. Here's one of her wearing the shirt I got her, though.

I'm pretty sure that HatGirl is incapable of having an unflattering hairstyle.

I dont wear a hat to work and that's where I am in the picture. Note the humidity meter, file cabinet and retired printer to my left. And the uniform shirt, but I'll give you the fact that you can't see my ever so special embroidered birth name.

It's a special kind of hat anyway. Beloved was lost about two years ago and has been irreplacable. But the name stays. I am HatGirl. Not CapGirl. Or BeanieGirl. HatGirl. Because he said so. and he has that privilege in my life. Hat... or lack thereof. ;-)

. . . and a privilege it is indeed.

Now if he could simply focus on the "privileges" afforded him, of which I suspect there are many, vs. focusing over "there" . . .

Um, HatGirl is very married, to the great dismay of single men everywhere.

Still, YOU hold a "privileged status" within that realm.

That's because I'm awesome, and HatGirl knows it. But my privileges can never extend to forgetting about that ring on her finger.

1) Yes, I've gathered that, which is why visiting your site has become part of my daily routine.

2) And they shouldn't . . . you don't strike me as the greedy sort, so don't start now.

One of my big fears is that inappropriate thoughts will ruin my friendship with HatGirl, just as they've ruined another relationship that I may have mentioned here from time to time.

So I watch my thoughts very closely when it comes to HatGirl.