feeling 22 in 2015

…if by 22 I mean, staying up too late to listen to new albums.

Anyway, just a few things today:

I forgot my running shoes and clothes at home, so I slept in my car during lunch. It’s either run or sleep. Anyway, I drooled all over my hand and face. Inside again, I opened a can of soda and it sprayed me in the eyes. I woke up. I’m an adult. I’m an office professional.

Boring day at work = now I study Russian, recopying and translating Anna Karenina and going over vocabulary via language sites online. It feels good. I missed Russian.

Cuddled at home for 20 minutes, then out to pick up Aaron’s mom and take her to the meeting with the missionaries tonight. Talked animals, gave her a sample of Sheppy’s dog food and a can of pumpkin (I gave it to her to help her dog’s stomach; Aaron is demanding a pumpkin roll ‘with the leftovers’). Went to McDonald’s to satiate a craving. When we dropped her off, we chatted some more, and then she gave us our copy of the marriage license.

We stopped for gas and when he had stopped the car, I showed him a breathtakingly beautiful photograph of a super typhoon in the south Pacific, and he was excited because I was excited, and he loves when I get passionate and nerdy.

But seriously. Look at that. The perspective. The curve of the earth. The outflow. The banding structure. The tight eye. The hot towers (those things that look like zits–those are ridiculously powerful thunderstorms). It’s beautiful.

When we got home, I dropped the envelope on the ‘table’ and immediately dove into coverage of FSU’s Pro Day, cooing over photos and bench press stats and QB stats and laughing hysterically at the QB being pressured with a broom and a tennis racquet while he made 102 throws, of which 11 were incomplete and 5 of those incompletions were drops. Wow. Just, wow. And the 190-pound kids bench pressing 225 pounds in 15, 20, 25 reps. I am so proud of my babies!

…In this, in my delighted squeals and hand-clapping and literal prancing across the room to show Aaron the Vine of the broom-assault, I have confirmed yet again that I get far more emotional about FSU football than I do my own, um, wedding. When we won the national championship, I cried over the last play about two dozen times over the span of two months. I never shed a tear at the wedding. I get all emotional and nostalgic at Pro Day and Draft Day, and never notice my own anniversaries. I have a first love.

…And in the big coup de grace, I show Aaron the Vine and he laughs, and I look up, and he’s looking at me with that shiny-eyed adoration and silent laughter, and oh, there are the feelings.

(And then I go back to football–aawwww, they’re posing with the coach’s youngest kid!)

Broom.

Last updated March 31, 2015