He really IS crying. He looks like a miraculous Virgin Mary statue or something. I guess it's allergies, or maybe that floor is breaking his heart. Concrete floor advice, please.
I must dash; having lunch with Jo in an hour and (surprise!) not showered. Last night ...friend drove me all around town and showed me the houses he grew up in, and places he fished and played sports and did all those things I never once did because I was (a) a girl who (2) stayed inside and read books my entire childhood.
Do you know who I cannot identify with whatsoever? Tomboys.
Anyway, it was cool. It was my idea, because he grew up here and I was all, yeah but where? Because he lives downtown now and I figured he hadn't done THAT his whole life. Anyway, he moved away from here to go to college and never came back till two years ago, for work.
"Greensboro is my Saginaw," he said, when I said I liked Greensboro and it seemed like a good place to grow up. I guess returning is weird, no matter where you're from. Unless you're from Milan. But maybe even THAT'S weird. "Damn Milan. Can't believe I'm back here, driving past my old high school. Home of the Milan Musketeers. Jesus Christ."
Anyway, as much as I would like to sit here and write Farmer Boy, the point of my story is afterward we went to dinner at Proximity, and then I got a horrific migraine and that was the end of that evening.
You know what I am? Fun.
Oh, and before I get in the shower, and I know you wish I'd have June Blogs From the Shower, a very special hot 'n naked Bye Bye Pie, I want to say that a lot of you have written to me via email or Facebook and I WILL write you back, I just haven't had the fortitude, frankly. This is hard. Math is hard. Especially for Edsel.