*blue balls not included.
…phone calls every night just before bedtime — even if we’ve already talked that day.
…middle-of-the-work-day phone call to let me know he’s coming in a day earlier than expected AND staying in town for a full weekend.
…talking flight plans for New Year’s? Just might be somewhere partially desert and mostly sunny. Together? Woah. And sounds like just what I need!
…big stupid, grinny-grins. For absolutely. No. Fucking. Reason. (OK, well, I guess there are a few good reasons).
It’s hard to explain, but I feel like a completely different person. Holy crap. Is this what happiness feels like? Why don’t they sell this at Caribou every morning? Now that would be worth blowing my non-specialty-coffee budget every month.
We now return to your regularly-scheduled puke fest.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
