Today The Boy and I had to spend all day at his apartment waiting for UPS to get off its collective brown ass and deliver him a laptop bag. This was extra vexing because today was the day we had planned to go get a bamboo steamer so we could try to recreate The Best Dumplings Ever. NOTHING comes between me and my pork burps, man, NOTHING!
This also meant I missed flamenco with Gloria this evening. Which is risky, very risky, my friends. I cannot flamenco. It took everything in me to return for week #2. Actually, I never would have gone back at all if I hadn’t opened my big mouth. Right afterwards, on some kind of golpe-fueled, post-CRYING BECAUSE OF FLAMENCO CLASS high, I made the mistake of saying (out loud): “You know what. That sucked. But I usually quit at anything I suck at. I’m going to stick this out!” You try turning yellow without looking like a big ole douche after that. I’m just hoping my sense of moral obligation hasn’t worn off next week.
In any case, 7 hours after scheduled delivery, his laptop case arrived and we high-tailed it back to my place to see whether Fred & Ethel had survived a full 14 hours without food (they had, but they have not left our sides since we got back). We’re driving along and The Boy says, “You know what I love? I love that we haven’t even gotten to your place yet and already my bag has some cat hair on it.”
You know what I love? That his bag has cat hair on it already and he just thinks it’s funny.