so one of my readers told me they think i’m really slacking as of late and that i should post something every single day
i hardly think the general public (or whoever is actually reading this) cares to know what i do on a day-by-day basis.
and if you do, well then hot damn fell free to call me. i’ll gladly talk to you about how i drove a somewhat staggering 200 miles a few days ago just to take 5 photographs, or how i went to see a movie the day after that, or how at some point during the week i played angry birds until i almost cried.
[angry birds gives me iPhone rage. it makes me want to break things. mostly the iPhone. but i keep playing it and it keeps proving to be the best time waster of all time while elevating my typically non-existent blood pressure to a level probably deserving of some form of mediation. like xanax.]
in other my-week-is-not-always-off-the-charts-exciting news . . .
i traded my georgia bulldog red & black for a little home turf carolina blue and found myself sitting
with behind jim nantz and john thompson at the UNC / Kentucky elite 8 game.
on a total whim.
and by whim i mean at 4:00pm i was sans shower, wearing gym shorts and sneakers, sitting in my living room watching some rerun of a 48 Hours Mystery.
by the 5:05pm tip off, me and danger diamond dave were being escorted to our 2nd row center court seats (which we scored because we “looked the part,” which apparently means we looked like real carolina fans. unlike the various d-bags trying to assume an allegiance to a school they don’t know anything about.)
i think it was the headband that really sealed the deal.
[why are we pointing.]
and then, well, why not round out the weekend with a completely unnecessary but equally inviting stop at the gaslight for beers that i will select by how intrigued i am by their name.
now don’t get me wrong, “flemish bruin” had me on the edge of my seat. but with an alcohol content more than 3 times that of an average beer, “triple 7’s” down right peaked my curiosity.
and then it peaked a totally awesome hangover.
and made me thankful for self-employment.
monday was one of those days. you know, the kind where mac&cheese for breakfast not only makes sense, but is about as important as gatorade and a good ol’ molecular combination of hydrogen and oxygen.
but i’m talking about the fake kind, friends. think kraft. think powder. think none of that homemade shit that actually requires (eek) baking or real live ingredients.
sure, why not.
i mean why eat 3 serving sizes when you can go for the jugular and eat 6?
[okay, so i didn’t actually consume the disproportionate family size. but i would have. and let’s get real about these portion sizes. i mean unless you live amongst a pack of birds, what family of 4+ is satisfied with sharing one of these boxes? kraft should reevaluate their clientele and quit lying to everyone. only anorexic families would classify one of these boxes as adequate split between multiple bodies and anorexic people don’t eat kraft mac&cheese.]
i also had sugar cookies for dinner. they were in easter shapes, so that was exciting. and i washed them back with a leftover piece of pizza that really rounded off the day quite nicely.
[back off, you know exactly what kind of day this was. you’ve all had one and if you haven’t, then you’re doing something wrong.]
nothing an hour (or two) long run can’t undo.
which felt a m a z i n g in the way that i sort of never wanted to end.
except that i did because it was on a treadmill and treadmills are boring.
dear summer: bring it.