According to The Mc, this is the first step in his emasculation. Apparently replacing his maple paper towel holder with my chrome version has something to do with his testicles.
Who knew? This could have saved me so much time wasted kicking guys in the groin.
He didn’t mean to wake me at 5:45 when the alarm went off for golf. In fact, he didn’t. It was the faucet when he was brushing his teeth.
It’s just as well. It’s been too long since my legs were properly stretched in the early light, when bugs are exhausted and confused enough to fly smack into my face. Too long since I soaked all three layers with evidence of my adventure, since my thighs burned with the pleasure of a run, since I practiced the mastery of the just-right lace tension on the sneaks and just the right balance of the ear bud jam into the side of my noggin.
The Silver Comet taunts me. She’s long and slim lovely and perfectly smooth, but I have to drive to visit her and it makes me feel like I’m pulling the classic asshole move from LA Story. You know the one. Still, she waits for me and she welcomes my eager feet and my disjointed cadence while I struggle to find my groove again.
I’ve missed the pounding of my feet and my breath, and there’s nothing quite like that shock to the body at 7am on a Saturday to prime you for an incredible day and to set the tone for a weekend with an open heart.
An Indy Craft Fair, a lunch date with myself and yet another trashy detective novel at an old favorite haunt, a pile of friends cycling the same trail and finishing it with a BBQ? The only thing that could have made it better would have been drinks and dinner with my beau and an ice cream cone by a fountain on a warm night (followed by a FUH2 moment for J)…but I had those, too. Pictures here.
Here’s to running and riding and art and friends and love, and for that perfect moment where they all mix and explode in your chest.
This concludes your hippie love-in entry for the day.
But: is it just me, or do Meredith Vieira and Hillary Clinton have the same plastic surgeon?
I write, you read. It's a clean and simple relationship.
