Legs of Steel

My legs have the beginnings of that iron feel to them. Richard, there is no way in hell you'll ever beat me in a race. Maybe if you go Tonya Harding on me. Otherwise, keep looking at my back, 'cause that's all you're ever going to see. BTW, I'm officially challenging you to the Olympic distance of the St. George Triathalon, 2007. I know, I know, I don't have a bike and haven't ridden one in over 10 years, so what. Let's race. My friends, who organize the race, have already been told that we will be racing to the death. The death. I should probably start swimming again too. Wait, can we make it just a run?

JP, you can join in the fun as well. May, 2007.

St. George Tri

Whoa Nelly!

I couldn't let a whole month go by without entertaining you. That just wouldn't be neighborly and it appears that where we are going (sshh, don't tell my current employer. I'm going to surprise them in a couple of weeks. Probably right after I get the welcome package. I hope it includes balloons and a clown.) ahem, ok, it appears that where we are going, being neighborly is very important. In Bronxville, neighborliness - not so important. Aside from our next door neighbors, who happen to own a dry cleaning business. I am going to miss the neighbor discount and my clothes magically appearing on my doorstep. Having to drive to pick up my clothes doesn't sound like fun. Wait, who am I kidding. It'll be Liz picking up my 25 shirts, including the three new pink ones. Yes, I feel like a beautiful butterfly.

In Brooklyn, being neighborly was also not very important, especially in our first Brooklyn apartment. Did I ever tell you about the time I left my building in South South Park Slope just in time to witness the SWAT team, battering ram in tow, crash through the building three buildings down? How about the mariachi band and their 50 cousins that lived upstairs from us for the first six months? Or what about the time they had the hugest party, then unexpectedly left the place, but left their trash, all 20 bags of it, sitting on their landing, thus stinking up the entire building? Or the time that someone's female products clogged up the pipes in the basement, thus causing the basement to flood with raw sewage? Or the hallway being under construction for the first six months? Or the fact that I could place a ball at one end of the apartment and watch it roll across four rooms and two doors to the other end of the apartment due to the funhouse-like tilt? How about the said neighbors banging on my door at 2am because they couldn't get to sleep because my ceiling fan was too loud (hello, mariachi band)? And my personal favorite, the time the entire kitchen ceiling collapsed due to a pipe in the kitchen upstairs breaking. Oh, yes, we had visitors due in town a day later.

Good times. I'm going to miss this place.