The midnight run of me
Yeah, I know what you thought. You thought it was going to be an epic story about how I had to run to warn someone that the British were coming. The British aren't coming. It's not epic. It's rather simple actually.I found that I really enjoy my run. Now, I'm not going to ever be competing or running in the NYC marathon. I won't even be running in the River Run in the Ta. Tonight, I went on what I like to call the extended version, where I jog out into the country. It's extended to me because it's farther than my normal route. I probably should have taken my dog, but he's a black dog and the moon was behind some clouds. Plus, there's that whole darkness thing the country has going on. Joey would probably stay with me, but sometimes he goes off on his own. Although, since we'd be in unfamiliar territory, he'd probably come streaking if he thought he was lost.
We chose our topic for the final project today in the WfMA class. In a close 7-6 decision, we chose drunk driving as the final project. One of the steps is to write a news/feature story on drunk driving. I wonder if the trip to Iowa counts even though we didn't get pulled over. If we had, the officers would have probably just shot us.
Mom's big ride is coming up. Dammit, I know that I'll be out at the site every freaking night doing something. I can see the writing on the wall already. I have to write a story about it for the paper anyways, but why do i get the sinking feeling that i'll be out everynight, playing groom. On the way home from Stud Cousin 1's vball game on saturday, I mouthed off a bit.
"So, you know, if you really wanted to be authentic, you wouldn't use a saddle. Indians didn't use saddles."
Mom looked at me and said "I'm a 50-year-old white woman. So you can take that authentic shit and shove it."
Classic stuff.
posted by Rusty @ 10:10 PM
Comments: 2
