*The Bermuda Triangle is not a myth, and it is located at the intersection of West 72nd Street and West End Avenue. On Sunday afternoon I watched with decreasing patience as approximately eight busses headed toward said intersection, where they are supposed to turn around and pick up east-bound passengers on Broadway, never to return. At least not until the second after I'd given up and hailed a cab.
*I'm so in love with this goddamn city it's ridiculous. The feeling I get wandering around outside on a mild, sunny day in NYC is nothing less than orgasmic. However, like many lovers (not that I've had many,) it never ceases to piss me off almost as much as it makes me happy (see above.) I wouldn't trade my lime green 144 square foot box o' fun for the world. At least not for another two years, according to the lease I just signed.
*Check out my badass girls at the starting line of their final race, about to win the darn thing. I do miss rowing very much, but I absolutely do not miss making the anticipating-the-most-intense-mental-and-physical-pain-you've-ever-felt-in-your-entire-life face right before the start. Just thinking about it makes me almost need to go to the ladies' room.
6 comments:
That's probably just you remembering how badly you needed to pee at every starting line on which you ever sat.
But you are right, though. When I watch the olympics on NBC ads, my heartrate gets a little wired and think of poising during the countdown, turning my hands on the foam handle, and wondering whether the feeling in my gut meant I was about to puke, or about to turn into Smaug and spit dragon fire. The answer, incidentally, was puke, but that's not the point. Rowing will always be badass.
Oooh, touche. I will always have a special place in my heart for wide-mouthed Nalgene bottles.
Geez. Never press buttons that aren't labeled, I guess. Didn't mean to delete that comment, which said:
I maintain that "Fist City" is one of the best songs in the Western canon.
Oooh I don't know that one, but I'll check it out. I love how she just tells it like it is, no frills. I've always maintained a strong anti-country stance, but I think My Morning Jacket was a gateway drug for me, and now with my new Loretta Lynn thing I'm just screwed. Someone please lobotomize me when I start buying Travis Tritt albums.
I direct you here: http://www.lyricsdir.com/l/loretta-lynn/fist-city.php
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