This is probably going to be a two-parter.  I think.


Husband and I had Mexican (of course.  It's the only thing that we eat that competes with cupcakes).  I had a giant beer.  I love the giant beer.  And I love that officially three servers know exactly what we're going to order.  And if we get one of them, the other two will come by and talk to us.  Yeah, my closest friends are the guys at Jalapenos.  STFU.

After that, we got froyo.  I love froyo.  And, picture me, I'm a little drunk and there are two college kids working the counter and the place is dead.  So I start talking to them about their jobs and what it's like and all that.  Being college kids, they only have one concern: women.  I have to give one of them mad props for his cajones, because he point-blank hit on me with D standing beside me.  I want to tell college boys every where to go flirt with the almost-thirty-something and make her day.

On the way to the Mexican place, we stopped by the barn.  We'd been talking about this massive storm that swept through the area and how weird it was, because all I got at my office downtown was some rain while our neighborhood looked like crap.  And then we pull into the road for the barn and D has to slam on his brakes for this:

From inside the pasture.
Yay, lightning!  Is it a normal response to think about the dynamics of jumping this shit?
Back pasture.  Pretty neat how it landed.


D had to go round, so I got up, visited the horse, and pumped out three dreadful miles on the track.  I waited too long and the heat/humidity got me.  I'd planned on five or six, but I was done after three.  Also:  I've added a page for my training progress for the Rock'N'Roll Half Marathon.

The hubs finished rounding and we met back at the apartment to relax for a few minutes.  Lunch was at Firehouse Subs.  I love that place, though my veggie sub was not up to par this time.  We ran a few little errands (new nail polish, a replacement pillow for the couch) and went back to the apartment to watch Wanderlust.  I'm so proud of my husband:  he reserved two movies (including the Hunger Games) for me, without me requesting!  So, I hate Jennifer Aniston, but this movie has enough going on (including full-front male nudity) to warrant watching.

At some point this afternoon, the mail came.  With the mail came my new boots.  My new, horribly-too-big boots.  My new, what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking,-I'm-not-riding-a-fucking-draft-horse too big boots.  Seriously, I could cry.  I knew with some brands the size was the same as the shoe size.  But I didn't think it was that way with these boots.  I'm an idiot.  I grabbed an old shoe of Archie's (because I have shit like that lying around), and stuck it in the boots for a comparison.  I wish I'd taken a picture because there is an honest-to-god inch of space all the way around.  The boots are a four.  I guess I should have gotten a zero or a one.  I think Arch wears a one.  Fuck.

So now I'm torn:  I'm seriously fucking broke until Friday.  Do I just wait it out because it's been almost two weeks already anyways, or do I try to find more boots?  As soon as I can get some photos of these suckers, I'm posted them on eBay.  I just hope that it won't be at too great of a loss.  (Oh!  Maybe even a gain! Can I hope for something like that?)

After the movie, D and I decided to go cycling.  We did about 14 miles at a pace of 15+/hour.  I had a few scary things happen, but I'm becoming a better cyclist so they didn't frighten me as much as they would have a couple of weeks ago.  And I'm sitting better, so my butt hurt less.  :)  The first thing was a car hovering on my ass and then pushing me into the sandy part (that I wasn't sure my narrow little tires could go through).  Then, I hit something and swerved.  And finally, I got cut off by a car.  Overall, though:  good ride.
Before I realized how shitfaced he was.

I put on makeup and blow dried my hair.
We returned home and D got cleaned up and went to visit his boss for drinks.  I went out to the barn and did a pathetic five minute bareback ride on the Kid.  Then I got cleaned up, put on one of my favorite dresses and met them out.  D and I had a nice, late romantic dinner for which he was mostly drunk.  Thanks, boss!  I did get into an interesting conversation about politics with his drunk Republican boss.  And I told secrets about my job and the lack of separation of church and state that infuriate me.  But he was drunk, so I doubt he'll remember it.

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