Tuesday, August 4

"Reader Of The Year"

What year did Caesar get murdered? When was Ghengis Khan born? Who knows.

Where did Kurt Russell grow up? Oregon.

And how close can 2 bloggers get who live on opposite coasts yet pictures can make their faces beyond recognizable enough to spot a psuedo-deployed husband wandering aimlessly?


I freaaaked out yesterday. It was better than a runner's high. Better than finishing Hood 2 Coast after 18 miles, even though it was time well spent with the Fajah. Better than graduating college. Or beating the infamous 21st birthday hangover.

I was driving home after getting off work an hour late. No big deal. Working late without notice is part of the job detail. Anyways, so I'm in my car, yacking at my dad (at least yesterday, I alternate which parent I call and annoy so they don't get uppity), was on my way home when...

all of a sudden, like time stopped...it was like a Bigfoot sighting...there's this tall-ish, redheaded guy, walking with 2 other dudes, alongside the road...(now said in slow motion) "OMG, I think I just saw Marrying the Navy's husband!!!!! I have to call Mommy McD!!!! Dad, let me call you back."

Too bad Mommy McD was eating dinner. So I had all this excitement, bouncing off the seatbelt, not even sure if I had the right NavyGuy...and no one to call.

I hate when that happens.

So out come the big balls. Cajones, I mean. I email Marrying the Navy. Why? I don't know. Could it have exploded into a million pieces, similiar to a pinata but with a lot less emphasis on candy and more on you're-bat$#!t-crazy-for-stalking-random-people's-blogs.

And what do I get? A whole blog post shout-out. Made my morning.

1 comment:

  1. I wasn't just eating - I was eating macaroni and cheese. And you never called me back.