SALAMI, THE BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS
I offered K a piece or two of salami and a cheese stick for breakfast Thursday morning as we were walking out the door.
K: You eat salami for breakfast?
Me: Absolutely, salami is delicious. [K stares at me blankly.] It’s not weird!
K is really going to have to get down with my breakfast choices if this relationship is going to work. Salami is appropriate to eat 24 hours a day as far as I’m concerned. Don’t try to tell me any different. Someone back me up here.
THE ORANGE TEAM, KICKBALL CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD
We kicked some maroon team ass last night 19-1. Granted, they have not won a game all season, but being that they were such horrible refs for our game last week, we were not overly concerned that we were crushing their feelings.
My kickball skills were sub-par for the first half of the game, although I did redeem myself with a couple excellent 3rd base plays and a run scored in the end. At one point a pop-fly was heading my way. I was so focused on calling the ball that I forgot to catch it along the lines of: I got it! I got it! I got it! Oh fuck, I don’t got it! I don’t got it! My mother would not be proud.
RACHEL, NOT THE PACKING CHAMPION OF THE WORLD
We don’t leave for Costa Rica until Sunday morning, but I have been hesitant to make plans for Friday night or Saturday because I’ve got some serious packing to do. You’d think the process would be relatively simple– bathing suit and passport– but packing stresses me out when I’m heading for the unknown or sensitive situations (weddings, funerals, work events). Prior to our board meeting in California last fall, I made two of my co-workers hash out outfit options over dinner for an entire 30 minutes. They were such good sports.
At one point in my young life, my conception of what was appropriate and not appropriate was so off that I needed outfit approval prior to family events, although it wasn’t always my fault. I showed up in northern Minnesota one summer in high school moments before my cousin’s wedding– having packed only a change of clothes for the following day and outfit for the wedding. My mother, despite her many pinky promises, forgot my nude colored bra at the cabin and I was forced to attend a wedding ceremony (in a church!) and reception wearing a white dress shirt with a lime green bra. My mother claimed it was very “Sex and the City”. It was not cute. From that situation I learned:
A. Always bring a back up outfit.
B. Don’t buy bright green bras.
That’s all she wrote, folks. I’ll be back Monday, June 13th a little bit sunburned, incredibly relaxed and high off all the adventure. Be good in my absence and don’t miss me too much.