afraid of my shadow

I've feared things big and small. Worried situations would be uncomfortable. Been scared I couldn't handle certain outcomes.

It was almost paralyzing when I was younger. I used to let these feelings keep me from trying new things, meeting new people. For whatever reason, lately, I've taken to ignoring my fears and worries. And in the end, whether I've been cautious or brave, I've always made it through. At least so far.

This year, I was almost too scared to go to the music festival. My friends had their own things going on. I was staying with a friend of a friend that I didn't know very well. And I wasn't sure how my ankle would fare on the uneven ground with only myself to count on.

When the doctor gave me the slight vote of confidence I needed, I decided to go.

The result?

I got to see my friends more than I ever imagined I would. Spent more quality time with them, than I think I did when they lived there. I gave up seeing a few bands I might have tried to catch otherwise, but hanging out with good friends is so much more important.

The friend of a friend welcomed me into his house with the same fabled southern hospitality that my long-time friend would have, had she not moved away. So hospitable, in fact, I feel I need to thank him with some grand gesture.

But, my ankle and mobility were perhaps my biggest fears. I carried my chair with me everywhere I went and rested my ankle in the middle of the field, when necessary. And I was pleasantly surprised by the accomodations made by perfect strangers for a girl in a cast on one crutch.

I was even included in a surprise birthday party for another friend of my friends. My annual trips to the festival have created almost a home away from home for me. My friends I've met through the ones that used to live there I now count among my own friends.

I may not have gotten to see every band I had hoped to. But as much as I love live music, I love visiting with my friends, both new and old, much more. And between downtown lunches, surprise breakfast movies, and leaving the festival one night early to swim and grab dinner, I think I enjoyed this year's festival more than any other.

And I never mind being proven wrong. Having none of my worries, concerns or fears materialize. Having life show me that I'm stronger and more courageous than I typically believe.

fated to be friends

One of my best friends from college left during our sophomore year, then transferred to a different school. But between late night road trips and boy avoiding hijinks in just a short year and a half we solidified our friendship.

Over the past decade (or so), we’ve been in and out of touch. But it never matters how long it’s been since our last conversation, we always fall right back into easy, real conversation.

Every year before this one, I’d made the rounds visiting my friends in Texas before the festival. This year I knew I couldn’t take all the time off of work. And once I broke my ankle, I didn’t bother insisting anyone drive in to Austin to see me, since I was so unsure whether or not I could go. She was the only one I knew I had to see.

I headed straight to her house from the airport. We talked and talked. For hours. We talked about the little ones, her husband, work, my boy situation. Anything and everything.

She had her second little boy a few weeks ago. And I couldn’t wait to meet him. I’ve now met both of her little ones within their first two months. It may not make sense to anyone else, but I think kids remember you when you meet them when they’re very young. Her oldest always remembers me, even though he’s only seen me a few times since he was three weeks old.

Her parents came by, even after years, they still feel like home away from home to me. In fact it’s our moms’ fault that we’re friends. They met before we ever started college, and they insisted we look each other up when we got to campus. Thankfully we both listened to our moms on that one.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. I believe that. I believe in fate, kismet, whatever you want to call it. Particularly when it comes to my amazingly wonderful friends and how and why they’re all in my life. Now, if I could only believe in the same when it comes to other things.

time to breathe

No, the heat did not kill me. (Just nearly so.) No, (Jeremy) I didn't injure or re-injure myself. And no, there isn't some fantastic reason I've been ignoring you all.

Just work. And more work. He hasn't even been in town to provide a distraction.

My question is, how does taking a couple of days off create four additional days of work to do? It just doesn't make sense. How can everything go wrong in two short days?

Anyway, now that I've bored you all to tears, I will leave you with a promise. That I will be back as soon as I have time to breathe. Hopefully that will be soon.

fly south

My friends and family know me well. Sometimes it seems as if they know me better than I know myself.

No one was surprised when I told them today that I had decided to go on my trip. Particularly after they found out what my doc said yesterday. My broken, pinned bone is healing well. So well, in fact, that I no longer have to use the crutches.

Of course, I was just getting really good at getting around on crutches. And now I have to learn to walk* again. But at least I get to go on my trip, and not have to rely too much on anyone to help me out.

I'll be sore. But the doc assured me I can't do any damage. So, now, it's about time for me to fly south.


* And by walk I mean hobble about, with one leg significantly weaker and about 2 inches longer than the other due to the boot.

wishy-washy

I had hoped M would insist I meet her for the weekend when I talked to her last night. But she didn't. She'll get to see me in a month or so, anyway. And she knows how difficult getting around this weekend on crutches will be. So, I thought, perhaps I won't go.

Then while looking for something else, I found an old Magic 8 Ball, and of course asked it if I should go. It replied, "It is certain." Alright, perhaps I should*.

Then, when I woke up this morning, I decided definitively that I cannot go. My ankle was in excruciating pain. So, I decided I'd have to stay home.

As I was leaving for work, after the pain in my ankle subsided, I read a message which made me think that I should go. Another friend simply stated, I can't wait to see you. That may just be enough.

But, I'm not sure. I'll get to see my other friend next spring, either way. And it would be stupid to go and delay the healing of my ankle, or re-injure it.

Now, I'm back to completely undecided.

So, maybe I'll add all of your opinions to my indecision. Should I fly south to spend three days in the sun listening to good music, getting to see a few great college friends? Or should I play it safe and stay home?

Keep in mind, the festival grounds are huge, and will not be easy to navigate on my crutches. I can't carry much of anything, including luggage or my own drink. And my friends are only going to the festival part of the time, they have family and other obligations to attend to on their visit, as well.

What to do, what to do?


* No, I don't really make any decisions based on a plastic black ball filled with blue water, but the response can be a fun addition to an indecision.

remembering

I turned on the radio this morning. They were talking about the terrible day five years ago. Talking to people about where they were, what they were doing. My own memories came back.

I remember hearing the news driving into work. Thinking how could any pilot fly into a building, what kind of mechanical difficulties could possibly result in that. I remember seeing the second plane hit, on the TV at the coffee shop.

And I remember driving home from work. Everything was surreal. It felt like I was the only one on the road. The sign over the highway read something to the effect of "all flights cancelled until further notice."

It sent shivers down my spine. Perhaps it was a bit morbid, but I pulled the car over to take a picture. The company I worked for at the time manufactured the sign.

A police officer pulled over behind me. He asked if I was alright.

The tears streaming down my cheeks gave me away. But I said I was fine. And tried to explain away my strange need to permanently capture the horrific message on the sign.

That morning the office was full of frightening news. Our sales guys were to meet in the World Trade Center that morning.

And my family was panicking. My brother was supposed to be flying from Boston to LA, but nobody knew what time, or what flight.

And my good friend from college and his parents are all pilots. There were e-mails flying around worrying about their safety.

No one could find anyone. For hours.

Finally the news trickled in. The sales guys got an e-mail sent in, luckily they were running late for their meeting, and were on their way when the first plane hit.

My brother called to let us all know that he was supposed to be on a later flight. He and a colleague were renting a car, instead. And my pilot friend finally sent out a note that he and his parents were all safe.

I felt guilty for feeling relief that the people I know were safe. As if people might think I didn't think it was as horrific, since it didn't directly effect me.

Last year, this day felt more reverent (and I was much more eloquent). Today feels like any other day. And it shouldn't. But I don't know how it should be different.

Perhaps just remembering is enough. Remembering the lost souls. Remembering the feeling of five years ago. Remembering those whose lives were and are changed forever.

dreaming of the future

I keep having this dream. Actually it's not the same. There are variations, but the theme is the same.

In my dream I have gone to a party or a bar with him. The evening always starts out great. But somewhere along the lines I either find him kissing another girl, or getting another girl's number.

It ends with his getting mad at me for being possessive and leaving without me.

Now I really don't think he's going out looking for other girls. I don't think I get jealous easily, at all. And I don't think I always have dreams about the future.

(When I dreamed my neighbor was going to rip up her entire front yard the night before she actually had someone start ripping out her driveway, I was a little disturbed. But those dreams that actually happen aren't that frequent.)

What's bothering me is whether the fact that I've had a similar dream various times means something or not. Am I worried he might cheat? Am I worried I might? Is it my subconscious questioning things I won't allow my conscious to consider?

I really don't know.

memory

Even though I needed to stay late at work, I didn't. Sure, that's me, rebellious.

Instead I headed to meet my mom and sister for dinner. Although the appetizer was incredible, the service was terrible, and we didn't even get our main courses before we had to leave.

Instead, we paid and walked across the breezway. (alright, they walked, I crutched.)

Minutes later there was fur flying in the aisles. And the three of us were grinning from ear to ear. I suppose you could say Cheshire Cat grins.

I could vividly remember going to the theater to see the very same musical years ago with my mom, sister and grandma. Long before it celebrated any anniversaries. And it's now celebrating it's 25th.

The evening was intoxicating, despite the rough start. Even more incredible than I remembered. And I had remembered the songs. Even though I don't think I've heard any but the most famous one since I was a teenager.

Odd what the memory keeps locked away.

At dinner and after the show, I ingested more caffeine than I have in over a month, since before my surgery. I had to finish the work before tomorrow somehow.

And now, instead of sleep, all I want to do is sing and stretch. (I have to draw the line at cleaning behind my ears with my paws.)

But sleep must come. I must remind myself, I'm not really a nocturnal cat, but a girl with a meeting in the morning.

... When the dawn comes
tonight will be a memory too
and a new day will begin...

slowly creeping in

I'm not usually a grumpy person. But lately I can't seem to shake this underlying feeling of blah.

I'm frustrated. Fall* is my favorite season. And the weather's been perfect here. Clear crisp days. Perfect, almost cool, autumn nights.

I want to go for bike rides, walk the dog, rollerblade, or hike to see the soon-to-be changing aspen leaves.

But I can't. And I won't be able to, not before fall ends.

The big black boot on my left ankle will remain there for weeks still. It will be cold, and possibly snowing before I will be able to walk somewhat normally again.

I hate to complain after a great birthday celebration surrounded by friends. But even that, the show at red rocks, and the fiesta were tainted.

The thing is, I'm not really me when I'm on crutches. I am forced to be more or less sedentary. And I'm not. I usually can't sit still.

And I hate having to rely on people. Even those closest to me. My sister to get me upstairs to bed after shots of Patron on my birthday. My mom to do simple household chores for me. Him to carry my plate at the party.

And I hate the thought of canceling my trip next week to see great friends and good music. The practical side of me isn't sure I can make it. But the stubborn, I-can-do-anything, side still thinks I can go.

I can't decide. Ultimately, the doc has the final word. But I hate the defeatist feeling that is slowly creeping in, telling me to stay safe, to stay home. I hate the grumpy edge I've taken on lately. And most of all, I hate the blah.


* I know, technically it's still late summer, but the weather has been distinctly fall-like.

celebrating life

I don't have many milestones to celebrate. No major anniversaries. No kid's birthdays. So I tend to celebrate my own in style.

This year, it will be a week-long celebration. Of my own instigation. It's my time to celebrate life. Broken ankle, crutches and all.

The celebration kicked off a few nights ago with a phenomenal show at my favorite venue, Red Rocks, with Bonnie Raitt and Keb Mo serenading me. Yes, they were singing just for me.

I took time off yesterday to have lunch on a perfect patio day with my mom and sister.

Last night was a nostalgic show at the Botanic Gardens with my mom. We enjoyed Judy Collins' (my mom's long-forgotten pal from her college days) show in her old home state. My mom smiled when she sang Send in the Clowns. I used to do a ballet routine to that song, back when I was more graceful. The song reminded us both.

Today was the, now traditional, angel food cake and strawberries at work (since I was supposed to take tomorrow off). And tonight he's taking me to dinner, since he has plans tomorrow. Yes, plans more important* then spending my birthday with me.

Tomorrow night I'm going for dinner and drinks with good friends. The celebration will continue through the long weekend with friends and family, a party, football game and of course more music.

Really, it's just my excuse to celebrate life.

* Yes, I realize that I told him it wasn't a big deal that he might not be able to hang out with me on the actual day. He's just supposed to want to. I rearranged things so I could see him on his actual birthday. Perhaps it should be telling, perhaps it shouldn't. Perhaps it just is.

just trying to get around

Waiting with other truly handicapped people the other night, I began to feel guilty.

I'd been complaining about the ridiculousness of the stadium's handicap access. Complaining about the pathetically inadequate number of handicapped spaces that fill up hours before game time. Complaining about getting around the stadium.

But sitting there with people who really can't get themselves places, I realized even as slow as I am on my crutches, I'm still much more mobile than some people.

Granted, I'm not crutching it even half of a mile anytime soon, but I sure can get back to the car without waiting for a golf cart that's absolutely necessary for someone else.

So, I told my mom and sister we were walking.

A little ways from the designated handicap waiting benches, a cart driver stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. I agreed, as long as he went back up the hill to get some of the other people, as well.

He apologized to us all for the wait. He'd been yelled at various times that evening. Apparently the whole handicap experience had angered more than just me that evening. It was completely disorganized. Hopefully it will improve for those that really need it.

And I know that for the next game, at least I'll have a different game plan on how to get to and from my seats.

Thank you, Mr. King

Sometimes, it all just comes together.

I was sitting in my loaner wheelchair early. If my "pusher" had been inside already, she could have pushed me to the handicap area earlier.

As it was, the venue was nearly full when my mom walked in with A & S and other good friends she'd just run into. My friend's husband pushed me up to the handicap area.

There wasn't much room left which put me on the outside. When they brought him in on the cart to switch him over to the wheelchair to bring him to the stage he was a few feet from me.

we applauded as he passed by. A legend. A true blues great. On his 80th birthday celebration tour.

His band was phenomenal. The smooth saxophones, trumpet, guitar, piano. All so talented. And he's still got it.

His singing and tales delighted the crowd. Despite the downpour, the show was amazing.

A & S were well under the handicapped tent, as was my mom, well mostly. I had some nice gentleman's umbrella, and a trash bag over my splint. Sure I was getting a bit wet, but with the king of blues on stage and the pain pills, I didn't care.

When the lightening started, they cut him short. Some of his band had stopped accompanying him songs ago. But he wanted to keep going. His manager came up to the soundboard and cut the power.

They brought him back up in the wheelchair, and as he was walking back to the golf cart he paused beside me. He stuck out his hand. I took it in mine and shook it, thanking him personally. Then he said he saved something for me.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out guitar picks for me and my leg rest (a.k.a. my mom).

I was absolutely giddy. My mom was still staying with me after the show. I couldn't sleep. I told her this was the silver lining. It may even have made all of the rest of it worth it.

Even in my craziest dreams, I have never imagined I would ever get to meet and personally thank B.B. King for an incredible night of amazing music in the company of wonderful friends.

post-op

I was scared before. but when I "woke up" I was completely out of it. my ankle hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. but I didn't seem to care.

ah, pain medicine.

it didn't take my doc long at all to fix what I had broken in my adventure of last weekend. I was in the surgery center for less than 5 hours. I was home, but still really out of it, that evening.

I had flowers waiting. from work, and from my parents and sister. and him. I had many well-wishers.*

that night I got sick. nothing really helped. until the doctor called in another prescription. then it was better enough to take my pain meds and fall asleep. although restlessly.

I was feeling much better the day after the surgery. had visitors. worked a little. did a few sudoku puzzles. watched a movie or two.

the next morning I woke up not feeling quite right. I got really sick. and the ankle just kept hurting more and more. and more. I couldn't keep even water down. finally, the doctor called back. they switched the pain meds. once I could take them, they seemed to help. some.

my mom's been a godsend. helping me out. going to the pharmacy. getting me water. crackers to take the meds with. trying to make me feel less miserable.

until today, I'd felt on and off nauseous. for days. this morning I even had a little coffee. and tonight, I'm (hopefully) off to see Mr. King. granted, I'll be sitting in a wheelchair instead of up, dancing to the music. but at least I get** to go.

* thanks everyone for your kind words and thoughts, I so very much appreciate it!
**read: at least I think I've talked my mom into letting me go.

life is beautiful

our trip to the mountains started out great. after relaxing with my nieces and sister-in-law for a little while, we walked down the street to the Italian place.

after dinner, I slept well. really well. better than I had in months. the next morning we lazily enjoyed our breakfast and got ready to go hiking.

it was cloudy. the trail I'd taken a dozen times was the one we'd planned to take that day. but with the clouds, and likelihood of lightening, we decided a trail mostly below tree line was a better idea.

we got to the trailhead. there were other cars, but not too crowded. the hike followed an old mining road for the first few tenths of a mile.

the view back down the gulch was beautiful.

after an old mining cabin, the trail got a little more treacherous. narrow. rocky. exposed tree roots. but we made decent time, except my constant stopping to take pictures.

after stopping to borrow bug spray from a group of hikers, since we had left ours in the car, I commented to J how the hikers seem to get friendlier the further you get from the Front Range. the trails close to the cities seem to have more tourists. more inconsiderate people.

as we continued our climb, the beautiful blooming wildflowers were in sharp contrast to the jagged rocks and majestic pine trees.

the trail meandered past incredible water falls. after the falls we lost the trail a few times. scrambling up granite outcroppings, wandering in the trees.

the long way around sometimes gives a different perspective. I was awestruck by the rugged scenery. so different from the valley two south, where I camped so many times as a kid. also, so different from the valley two north, where I've hiked so many times.

we arrived at our "destination." the hanging lake. the rain started gently falling. TheDog and I climbed down to the lake. amazing how it sits on the edge, water slowly falling over the edge of the cliff.

I would have liked to stay longer. let TheDog swim longer. explore the shore a bit more. but the clouds were darkening, and we thought it best to head on down.

as we started our descent. I decided my sister and I needed to bring TheDog and her dog up here before the end of the season. so TheDog could swim with her friend.

on our way down the rain continued gently. the trail was getting muddier. at one point I slipped on a bit of mud. a tree root caught my foot. but the rest of me kept sliding. my ankle twisted. something snapped. I hit the ground.

the pain shot up my leg and exploded through my body. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't put any weight on my leg. and just then it started to pour.

just putting my foot on the ground was excruciating. there was no way I'd walk out of there.

J helped me half crawl under the trees. my mind raced. I'd have to send J for help. maybe find some sticks to use as crutches.

just then a couple and their nephew came upon us. they offered to help us down. sent their nephew on with their cell to call for help as soon as he got service. they helped me hop. and when that was going really slow. he picked me up and carried me fireman style.

then another couple caught up to us. the two guys helped me hop and carried me when they could. a while later two more couples caught up to our slow moving group. they sent their wives on to help the nephew summon help.

the four guys took turns carrying me, helping me hop down the trail. we'd gone almost a mile when we got back to the mining road. about a tenth of a mile from the trailhead we heard the sound of wheels on the rocks. we stopped. it was the search and rescue team.

after thanking my real rescuers, the amazingly nice hikers that got me most of the way back to civilization, the rescue guys got my ankle immobilized and took me down to the ambulance.

once in the ER, the news came that it was indeed broken. the ER doc said he was fairly sure I'd need surgery. but I needed to go see an orthopedic surgeon as soon as possible.

today I saw the orthopedic surgeon. tomorrow he's performing the surgery. I'm scared. I've never broken a bone before. I've never had surgery before. but somehow I know it's all going to be alright.

the kindness of strangers on a hiking trail has completely renewed my faith in people. in myself. in life. they have reminded me that life is beautiful.

time for a change

time is precious.
it seems to be all I want more of these days. more time to spend with friends. family. TheDog. even him.

I haven't been up to the mountains enough this summer. only once overnight. and that's not enough. I haven't even clicked the shutter in about a month. and that needs to change.

and so, I'm leaving. I'm heading up the hill. for two entire nights. just TheDog, J and me. neither she nor TheDog have seen much of me lately.

I know I'm crazy. how can I possibly take all that time off. all four hours. I just am. and I don't really care about the consequences. work is only that. and it will have to wait.

in the river

relaxing in a camping chair in the middle of the river, cold beer in hand, I was reminded of college.*

the summer I didn't come home, we used to go tubing constantly. it was the only way to be outdoors and stay cool. and this Colorado girl couldn't stand staying in the air-conditioning.

we'd leave early-ish, hit the beer barn and sit on the river for hours. the road trip up was almost as much fun as the tubing. I had summer mix tapes we'd blare as we sped down the highway with the top down. we always stopped for bbq on our way home. sitting in an intertube all day drinking beer apparently works up an appetite.

my reminiscing was interrupted by his asking why I was grinning. I simply said the river reminded me of tubing in college. how can you describe a memory. a feeling. that you're jealous that you're sitting in the river with all of his friends, and yours are miles away?

he didn't press. maybe he could see the hint of sadness in my eyes. maybe he could see I didn't want to elaborate. he took my hand and smiled at me.

I smiled back. despite my moment of sad nostalgia, I was having a great weekend. amazing music, camping, river-sitting, and good friends. even if they weren't my own.

I did send my college friends an e-mail when I got home, wondering if anyone was up for a mini-reunion, with tubing included, of course.


* yes, as white-trash as river-sitting may sound, it did, indeed remind me of my years of higher education.

a girl's got to eat

when I got home too late from work tonight, I opened my fridge to see what I had for dinner. the entire contents? salsa, beer, tonic, limes and margarita mix. (yes, apparently I'm all ready for a party, as long as the guests only require beverages.)

so I figured the freezer might have something. ice packs, ice in a bucket, chicken breasts, coffee beans, and my sort-of-short-term-roommate's frozen dinners.

the pantry had a few items, plenty of dog food and bones, several varieties of crackers, pasta (no sauce), but nothing easily fixed for dinner. (although there is, of course, plenty of vodka and tequila to go with the contents of the fridge and all that ice.)

after considering whether or not I'd get to the store before the s-o-s-t roommate returns and the amount of time it would take to thaw and cook the chicken, I decided on crackers and salsa (I know, very nutritious).

during my gourmet meal, I realized that when I work too much, I let things slide. I forget to open my mail. I space watering my lawn. and, well, obviously the grocery thing.

it's not all laziness or forgetfulness. there's also the not being home much, and eating out too much lately.

besides there aren't many consequences. maybe a bill paid late here or grass shriveling up there. and, of course, having to eat crackers for dinner.

but along with setting limitations for myself (and those I work for) to make sure I have time to keep appointments and swim occasionally at lunch, I shall add to my list of unwavering demands that I have enough time to go grocery shopping. well, at least once a month.

two months

how can it seem like a long time, and yet seem like no time at all, all at the same time?

it's when the questions start creeping in. is there something real there? are you just wasting his time? is he just wasting yours?

it's when you start testing each other. can you be together when there's nothing to do? when there's too much to do? and, of course, the biggest test of all? do the dogs get along?

it's when there are no definitions. you know each other, but you don't. you meet each other's friends, but not family. and you have no idea what he refers to you as to any of them.

you imagine hanging out in the future, but know there's things you dream of doing that he wouldn't. things he may dream of that you wouldn't. but it's probably too early to have the "future" talk?

some of those silly little things start to bother you. but the idea of not having him in your life may bother you more.

you start to question. you start to take for granted. you start to hope for. little things. big things. everything.

should you pay attention to the signs, the nagging feelings, the adorable guy that smiled at you as you were getting coffee?

do you listen to your friends that say he's great, real, sincere, and all the things you wished for in the last one? who tell you not to screw this one up?

or do you listen to your mom who says not to settle for be content with being only mostly content? who says there's not the perfect man out there, but there is the perfect man for you? who says that only two important things are the friendship and the spark?

the importance of family

my mom called me a couple of weeks ago to ask me what I was doing this past weekend. specifically Saturday night. I told her I had tickets to a show, then asked why.

she was heading to their condo, to deal with some HOA stuff, wanted company. my dad couldn't go with her. I said I was sorry, if something changed I'd let her know.

I could tell just by the disappointment in just her voice that she didn't just want company, she almost needed it. she really didn't want to go to the meeting alone.

I'd been to the only one to represent them at an HOA meeting. and despite her being strong and independent, I know one of her strengths is not necessarily meeting with new people, particularly in this type of situation*.

so when my friend asked me if I was still joining them for the show last week, I said yes, unless she might have someone she'd rather take. that although I'd love to see her, I would happily bow out. I had suspected there might be someone she wanted to take instead. I was right.

so I called my mom and let her know I'd join her. she seemed very relieved to have backup at the meeting. and company for part of the weekend.

we had a great short stay in the mountains despite the too-long meeting. we had dinner with my brother, sister-in-law, and nieces. walked the pups for coffee and bagels. and even babysat the nieces so my brother and his wife could actually go mountain biking together.

despite the extra hours it took me to get home afterward because of a truck fire on the side of the highway, I enjoyed my short visit with my mom. I was happy to be able to ease her discomfort in attending the meeting. I enjoyed seeing my brother and sister-in-law. and I always love playing with my nieces.

* I'd go into more specifics here, but can't as of yet.

one is silver and the other gold

an old friend was in town this week. and between work and other obligations, the only night we could hang out was tonight.

Thursday summer nights are usually spent watching films under the stars with the girls. but we made an exception and headed downtown instead.

we had a few free beverages in the hospitality suite at his hotel, then headed out to see a free concert in the middle of the street. (I love summer here, outdoor entertainment at every turn.)

then we decided the vodka needed company in our stomachs, and went for tapas. over serrano ham wrapped dates and salmon wrapped asparagus with blue cheese sauce, we reminisced.

he's like another brother to me. but a brother I can really talk to more like a best friend. it had been a few months since he was in town. and I realized I missed our talks.

it's guys like him, and my other amazing guy friends, that have set my standards so high. and make me treasure my old friends.


make new friends, but keep the old...