I try to keep my daily what I had for breakfast, how I biked to work, and how I smell off of this here blog. Sometimes I get emails from friends saying “I read the blog, but how are you really.” Normally these kind souls care alot… so much so.. they want to know about the bicyclemark heart, and “how I’m doin.”
So this evening, allow me to ignore how completely non-human and rythmless GW Bush looked clapping along to traditional Georgian music (country not the state!), and give you a personal something:
Monday nights have become ultimate frisbee night. Stop that chuckling, because it’s serious business down in the south of amsterdam. I was shocked to find a huge colony of frisbee fanatics who play everyweek and participate in all kinds of local and international tournaments. Yeah— I myself wonder what the hell Im doing there. But then today, in between pretending my legs weren’t sore from last weeks grueling match, I found my inspiration.
She’s cute. Let’s immidiately get that out of the way. I tried not to talk, cause I secretly dream of being considered mysterious. So I stretched, gave a friendly hello to the players I had met before, waited for her to come to me, and looked right into her eyes and slipped right into the mud under me.
OK no, not really. I kept my balance, but I did look deep into those lovely eyes and I said hello, trying not to flinch, cause why lose a second of such beauty. Then I played it cool, lined up near but not too near her, passed to her not too often, and listened with great joy whenever she’d shout my name and name the play she wanted me to run. I was convinced she was only doing this for me. And I was happy.
Anyway the rest is uneventful. On-field crushes are wonderfully perfect, and I can’t wait to see her at the next game. At which time, I hope we get to look at each other alot, chit-chat in Dutch, and run around a muddy field together. Wow – I know — that’s hot!
ps — If she finds this, I’m ruined.
And — this blogger rocks, without fail.