Travel & Lifestyle Freelance Writer | Market Research Consultant
I currently have the I-Pod rocking from its dock in the bathroom while NPR blares from my bedroom.
Hearing Outkast telling me to “Shake it like a Polaroid picture,” while Ryan Warner chastises me for not yet donating to Colorado Public Radio’s summer fundraiser is an interesting cultural contradiction.
So Mike is in the process of moving. Not far, just to a different apartment and into his own room.
We were chatting this morning, and he mentioned that he plans to get rid of some stuff–just leave it on the side of the road for the many Boulder scavengers to sift through and snag.
His one reservation is that I’ll come over and start bragging about the new free stuff I got.
“Court! I’m trying to get rid of that!”
Hmmm … I suppose it’s a valid concern.
Just bought some sick new running shoes. They’re a minimalist design by Brooks called “the Green Silence.”
Which is actually really convenient because I’ve been racking my brains for weeks now trying to think up a ninja name.
The Green Silence … bingo.
I’m not nearly as picky about eating healthy as I used to be.
But even I draw the line when the barista mixes up half and half cream with skim milk.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a big deal if my large coffee wasn’t made up of roughly 50 percent milk, but since it is, I had to say something.
I’ve never sucked directly from an udder, but I’m guessing that’s pretty much what my beverage would have tasted like.
I love flipflops. They make it impossible for someone to sneak up on me.
On a run this morning in Boulder, I saw a stick on the ground, probably six inches long, about 3/4 of an inch thick.
The first thought that came to my mind was, “Huh, that would make a good vampire stabber.”
Any aspiring psychoanalysts want to take a crack at that one?