Licks of Love

This morning, Preston and I packed up the house in Wintergreen and drove a VERY TIGHTLY packed car 6 hours back to Bryn Mawr. We arrived home to a sweaty apartment, where thank the lord my new debit card was waiting (the one that has my married name on it). Except that the bank SPELLED MY NAME WRONG. Not Frances, which is usually misspelled as Francis (the male spelling), but my last name, which is pretty straightforward. They left out the first 'a,' which means my last name (on the card) begins with Bn instead of Ban. Preston looked at it and deadpanned, 'Just tell them the B is silent.' Seriously. Look how helpful he is, y'all.

At any rate, all evening I've been in a generally poopy mood, and have been feeling immensely sorry for myself. Because of more than the new fake debit card, but I'll spare you the verbal vomit. In the spirit of catching up on all the internet I've missed over the last three weeks, I have just finished watching the first episode of Season 4 of The Hills, a show which always makes me want to have daily manicures and pretty hair. I was going through all my newly uploaded pictures from the trip just now, mourning the fact that my hair will never look as perfectly coiffed as Lauren Conrad's, when I came across this photo. And suddenly everything got a little bit better. My gloominess began to lift. The world got a bit shinier. And sunshine and lollipops rained down from the sky. Isn't it amazing what puppies can do?

And I know that Preston will probably look at this post and scream EWWW do you know where her tongue probably was before she started licking your face?? To which I would respond yes but she has obviously already won me over with all that puppy breath adorableness. And I have bigger things to worry about. Like trying to convince the bank that my last name does not start with a silent B.