My dream bike. All that's missing is Hipster in front and me in back. OR the other way around is fine, too. Rumor has it that Hipster's name is allegedly "Motorcycle Mike," or so I've been told by one of the bartenders.
Well, Hipster wasn't at Indy Ale last night, but that's OK, because I'm still too chicken to apologize. Nevertheless we had a ton of fun, 7-8 of us playing Cards Against Humanity.
And, unbeknownst to anyone I was with other than JJ, my new little crush was at the bar. He's this ordinary guy at the gym who just has the best manners and prettiest blue eyes; plus he's so nice. He's cute, too, in a Russel Crowe kind of way. No, I'm not settling. He's not fugly, but he's no Robert-the-San-Diego-photo-journalist, whom by the way, flew out yesterday.
Once while I was crossing the bar to use the toity, gym-cutie made a point to break his conversation with his date/friend (?) and say hello to me. How cute is that?
It seems the Universe has decided to change me from invisible to visible these days, and I'm gonna enjoy it while it lasts.
Call it the 175 crunches I do at the gym every day and my snug workout outfit, but yesterday, there were a PILE of cuties at the gym, and I was the only chick and basking in the attention like a plant in a window. So I walk over to a congested area where a bunch of cute dudes are talking and working out, when suddenly you could have heard a pin drop--attention allegedly focused on me. I sniffed the air, and no one farted. Still, it was suddenly, inexplicably SILENT. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a "Kick Me" sign taped on my back or booger on the side of my nose, so I just thanked the Universe for the temporary attention and took it for what it was worth.
Some days, you just gotta love the little presents the Universe hands you, and this week, there's been many.
Happy sigh. Treasure the little flash-in-the-pan moments, kiddies.
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