"Do you need anything? How are you feeling?" Or at least that's what I assumed he'd said, though the hinged wooden slab between us proved an effective sound barrier if not only serving as the established germ sanctuary. Needless to say, I didn't really see him for a week. His concern was genuine, and I'm sure he would have done everything within his power to help me feel better from the safety of his room.
Hiking has been put on hold, but the streak continues! I managed a mile or two the days I was sick and now I find myself at the halfway point for the year! How exciting is that? 180 days and counting.
I'm also trying new things, or at least toying with the idea of trying news things (baby steps). I don't know where you live, loyal reader, but I come from a conservative town where people stay in closets, shoes and shirts are required, and cowboys abound.
Last weekend I witnessed my first naked bike ride, a Seattle tradition, in celebration of the summer solstice. Donned with body paint, brightly colored people and their privates rode through town in celebration of the longest day of the year. Despite all the sunshine, the many moons of Seattle were out in full splendor.
I can't wait to participate next year.
I'm reading more, probably in pursuit of enlightenment. Currently lost in the pages of Danny Wallace's book "Yes Man," I'm finding a take-home message that may be worth putting into practice. Say yes more.
Ah, and now for the pinnacle of my last few weeks that effectively made my year. How would you behave if you met a celebrity? We all like to think we won't be that asshat that flips out, rambles incessantly, and manages to snap a candid photo we later set as our profile pic with the caption, "Me and my bff." No, we are cool. Calm. Collected. After all, they are only human. They're just like me.
I now know that I am a complete and total wanker in the presence of even B-list celebrities. Not quite the stalker photog sort, but admittedly not far from.
I work in a running retail store, running specialty to be more specific while still be adequately vague (when I suddenly find myself a W-list celebrity, I will still be able to live a normal life having kept my personal details out of my media...).
A day like any other, until it wasn't. A man walks in. We're busy as per usual, so another coworker assures this man that someone will be available in just a minute to help him. I stare at this man for a few seconds before making my way to the back of the shop where I corner my coworker. "Is that...is that Bill Nye?" He pauses, "No, no it..." I didn't let him finish. I began bouncing around like beakered water molecules held over a Bunsen Burner.
Bill effing Nye. Bill effing Nye was in this running store, my running store! Life = complete. I didn't even speak to him, but I know what shoe he bought. Kind of a big deal. Real talk? I half expected him to approach me, proclaim that I was the next face of Hollywood, and sweep me back to California for a career in the movers... I'm still waiting for his return.
So...are you jealous of my exciting life? Currently pitching a reality show to MTV, so be on the look out.
Until my next entry, I continue my prep for Ragnar. Run happy.