We had a fantastic trip to Arizona for the Zane Grey 50 Mile Endurance Run on the Highline Trail, and I have photos times a million to upload and stories times a trillion to tell. That might be a couple of days.
So, I’ve started randomly yelling THANKS OBAMA whenever somebody complains. As wingnuts on Facebook have taught me, it really does fit into any conversation.
Driving a very cheap rental Impala down a 14% grade in Arizona.
GL: Why can’t I shift into 1 or 2? What the hell?
Me: THANKS OBAMA.
GL: Yeah. He just HAD to save Chevrolet.
After clearing security at Phoenix Sky Harbor.
Me: Freedom won today, GL. Freedom won.
GL: So which amendment was it that guaranteed your right to carry a duffle bag full of rocks onto an airplane? The 14th?
Me: THANKS OBAMA.
GL: Before him, only men could travel with rocks.
Gate C4: ~stare~
Seated on airplane.
GL: This guy standing next to me? He’s brushed his butt against my head three times now.
“Highwayman” I’m sorry, what?
The Jimmy Webb song. With the sailor and the guy who dies building the Hoover Dam and the astronaut. That’s your religion?
I had a couple of disappointments this week that left me sitting on my couch, Ted Mosbying about how it should be, how it’s supposed to be, all kinds of stupid things that are stupid and therefore not even worth detailing. And because life is life, these little stupid bits of disappointment were bracketed by actual losses for my friends and family, so, you know. Perspective. I needed some.
Also, that was a pretty rough transition from Highwayman to a Ted Mosby reference. Needed something more solid than a bunch of dashes.
This week I also rolled my retirement account out of my former company’s plan and set up my own thing with my financial guy. It took more paperwork to do this than it took to take Ada home from the hospital. The whole process just felt incredibly grown-up and not me. My retirement account is like the one thing I ever did right, responsible ‘n shit – I opened it when I was 18 and that feels like yesterday but turns out it was almost fourteen years ago. As I signed form after form and went over the eleventy-billion options and slightly smaller subset of recommendations for what to do with my new accounts, I thought “I wonder if this guy knows that I have never once opened the envelope or read one of my statements.”
They will be emailed to me now. I might even read them. Like a grownass adult.
I was sitting at the table with Ada this morning, eating breakfast, and she started sneezing. I watched her closely and realized that she was trying to blow a kiss, right before she’d sneeze, every time. She’d wrinkle up her little nose and clearly needed to sneeze, and thought that what she needed to do was blow a really really dramatic kiss. So it was like MWWWAAAAH AAAHHH CHOO. And then a giggle.
For all of you reading in Reader right now, at least we have until July.