May 30, 2015 - Groovy, man.

Stuff that ain't fit to dance to ain't fit for livin'. So, let's live and exist in equal measure.

All the stuff I wrote five years ago is still basically true. 'Cept, now, I'm with Stephy my girlfran. She makes great black bean burgers and is goofy like I am. We recover from a Friday night by spending the morning watching "The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross"  on Youtube. We sing songs to each other. We go places in all directions.  We're flying to Boston in July, and heading north up the coast into Maine (Bar Harbour, Portland, Biddeford, etc.), then west to Concord, NH, Montpelier, Burlington, and/or Brattleboro, VT. I also want to visit that neato library/museum on the border of Vermont and Quebec. How very international!

 We're going to a wedding today. The people getting married are Steph's old friends from Wartburg.  That's a good group to be a part of, as far as I can tell.  Wartburg people sort of remind me, in a flattering way, of the sort I grew up with in Waterloo. They don't really do "flashy" and when they party, they don't go out of their way to look "exclusive", which seemed to be a "thing" in Iowa City, where I went to college. I enjoy using words with "quotations" around them.

Burlington, Iowa looks like Burlington, Washington today. Lush, green, blooming, vines creeping, bugs losing out on honey dew and looking longingly at our apartment.  No honey found, antlings. I could live anywhere, honestly, but when it's rainy, green, and earthy, I'm Home with the capital "H".  Hopefully, New England is this green in July. I also hope we stumble on to some lobster-eschewing punk rockers in Maine. Boston punks would probably just slam dance on my head till it turns to chowder.  Go Sox.


Hmmm. What else?

I need to pack for the wedding. I'm not going to blog about needing to pack. I just need to go do it.