After all those years of flashcard flipping, it turns out I have an inner romantic. Up there with Thoreau. My husband has referred to me as a hippie in moments when I’m jabbering about local food, or when the truth comes out that I like art more than academia. Indulge me as I modulate on a few things things my inner romantic is loving. I'm not even going to local food, promise. Romance(obvious, I know). Two plus months married, and I am still baffled that Walker likes me, let alone loves me. Th…
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