This is my windshield somewhere in Idaho. In one year I’ve put over 27,000 miles on my car, and despite my best efforts (crashing it, forgetting to change the oil, running it out of steering fluid) it’s still munching pavement like a champ.
Why, you ask, did I pull this wonderful vehicle over mid drive, solely to take pictures of a mediocre sunset? I honestly couldn’t tell you.
I could, however, tell you why I made the drive in the first place.
Kim and I share a love of dancing in our recovery tights at freakishly carpeted (and understandably deserted) 18-and-under clubs between collegiate races. She and her new boyfriend at the time, Marcus, passed by my house one summer and ended up staying for over a week with my family. It was plenty of time for their puppy-child to pee on our photo albums and for my dad to plant the architecture seed in Marcus’s head- but that’s beside the point. The next year it was me who needed them in Seattle. It’s amazing how friends and some froyo can act as anchors when you’re adrift.
And suddenly we found ourselves wearing fancy clothes in this cool back room library, getting ready to official-ize the way these two light up any space they enter. I took this picture right before we abandoned bananagrams so Marcus and Kim could go have their individual, pre-aisle freakouts- I think we were all torn between feelings of excitement, gravity and of just plain-old playing dressup.
Congrats, you two. And thanks for including me in your family this weekend!