The hope that there is hope: Lindsay and her boyfriend are spending the next seven days together at a resort in Mexico. By herself, she went to the same resort last spring, though I suspect this time 'round there will be considerably less time spent reading and touring Mayan ruins. I suspect they will rarely leave their bedroom, but my hope is that this will be the longest they've ever spent together, especially alone together, and that she will grow quite sick of him. Or, you know, he'll pleasure her in ways she wouldn't have thought possible.

The hope that there is hope: at Emma's wedding a week ago, we were briefly discussing him. I said, "It would be worse for me if he was a scumbag. I want this kid to be fucking perfect." She replied, "He's not perfect." He's not perfect.