Crazy Thing Called Life

Please excuse the cheesy-McCheese title, but 2am is just not agreeing with me like she used to.

What's new in my music world, you ask? "Feel Like a Woman" by Mary J. Blige, get into it! It has a smooth, sexy vibe to it. I usually don't like Miss MJB enough to put her on the 'pod, but this one could potentially be a grinder...

I've had a few good days in a row. For that I thank music, this blog (and Cara), and my friends, especially Sistah Girl, Motown Lover, and of course, Top Chef. Thanks, y'all. For gossip, for advice, for fun conversations. For wasting time and making memories and offering perspectives, opinions, and good food (Today, Red Baron pizza. Yum-o). Friends really are a blessing. Speaking of which, I really hope CG and I can move beyond the weirdness between us. It's wearing on me and, well, I miss her.

Sistah Girl and I have gotten closer this year, which I really like, and not just because she's hilarious and makes INSANELY good peach cobbler. She gives great advice, with nary a judgmental tone in her voice. She's the mother of the group. So if you're reading this (instead of working on that Ren Lit paper, to which I say, tsk, tsk), thanks a million :). You'll make a fantastic teacher one day.

Anywhoodle, guess who I ran into today at the Post Office? Sidenote: That huge-ass application packet cost me $4.60 in postage. But if I get the scholarship, it will be $5 well-spent, and I will renege all of my head-shaking and finger-waggling.

But anyway. As I take off my sunglasses and remove my Ipod, guess who is standing in the doorway with his customary half-grin/smirk? The Runner! In all of his tall, athletic glory. At first I was like, "Wait, I know you." Then I was like, "Wtf?" 'Cause I hadn't seen him 2 days after Valentine's Day (yes, I remember the day, time, and circumstance). But, I was on his campus, after all. He looked good. Healthy. He is, indeed, a runner. We chat, he waits patiently as I mail my package, we walk out into the sunshine together and chat some more about an upcoming party. He asked me if I was going (I'm not. Have you seen my hair?) and seemed genuinely sad when I said I wasn't. He asked me about my work on The Paper. We parted on good terms.

He's a nice guy with a bad-ass streak to keep him interesting. I actually had thought about him earlier that day, as I did my laundry (we're not going down that road again). I recalled our easy banter, his offbeat personality, and how he'd use the corner of his t-shirt to wipe the top of his Corona Light bottle so I could have some. I wonder if I should go down that road again?

Of course there is currently an unfinished article waiting for me to finish it so I can go to bed. But I can't figure out how to end it. I can never end things properly. Pretty ironic.