Question: What do blog happy hours in DC and Half-Marathon events in Chicago have in common? Exactly. Nothing. So ask me again why I decided it was rational to attempt to do both in the same weekend? I have never felt more physically miserable than I did coming around the bend of the 13th mile, hamstrings buckling, awash with self-generated brine, than I did yesterday on the heated pavement of those glorious Hyde Park streets.
Rather than blaming my own lack of preparation (the truth is less comical), I have decided to blame my new friend INPY. Four shots into the night he cackled mischievously, "You aren't getting on that plane to Chicago tomorrow...mwaa haa haaaaaaaa."
That being said, in my effort to remain more elusive and poetic than my DC Cookie alter ego, my recap is simply this: Thank you. I was surprised how absolutely decadent it was to see everybody again, and to be flirted with so egregiously before my impending marriage. You all made me feel like the Queen I most certainly am not. My gratitude is immeasurable and my spirit humbled.
Rather than blaming my own lack of preparation (the truth is less comical), I have decided to blame my new friend INPY. Four shots into the night he cackled mischievously, "You aren't getting on that plane to Chicago tomorrow...mwaa haa haaaaaaaa."
That being said, in my effort to remain more elusive and poetic than my DC Cookie alter ego, my recap is simply this: Thank you. I was surprised how absolutely decadent it was to see everybody again, and to be flirted with so egregiously before my impending marriage. You all made me feel like the Queen I most certainly am not. My gratitude is immeasurable and my spirit humbled.
And I'm sorry to have missed Barbara, the most gracious and inspiring blogger in our community of verbal artists - thank you again for your thoughtfulness - I adorned my hair with the ribbon from your gift for the remainder of the evening.
I would say "see you next month" but in lieu of attending an October happy hour, I will instead be lying on a chaise lounge on a powdery Indian Ocean beach, beside my new husband, with a dexterous Seychellois resort employee kneading out the tension from my still-aching hamstrings...
