Our vanity plates…
The end of a very special Vanity Plate Week.
Our fears. (Via Amy.)

Our loves. (Via Amy.)

Our realities.

Some people have asked me this week if I have vanity plates. I don't.
I don't even know what my tag says. Can never remember the whole thing. There's a J, either an X or a V, maybe a U, three numbers, and possibly another letter. Upon going out to the car last month to get the tag for a form, I think I remember finding another letter and being surprised. What that letter is, or whether it exists at all, who knows.
Although it would help with memory, I could never get a vanity plate. Whatever plate I got, I would hate its permanence the next day and want to change it immediately. This is also why I don't have tattoos. Each of us meets The Other in strange places. Like on car bumpers.
But to go on…























