Radio Silence
I love the Olympics.
There, I said it.
That being said, I just don't know how much y'all are going to hear from me the next coupla weeks.
I could hardly tear myself away from beach volleyball to give you this much.
So those two or three of you who come by to visit-I love you more than my luggage. However, you'll probably not get anything humorous, inspiring, or insipid from me.
I may check in on the morning of the 24th just to let you know how the concert went.
What concert?
Well, only the Bruce Springsteen concert in St. Louis on the 23rd. Which also happens to be my fortieth birthday. (I dropped this little hint so those of you who need time to decide how best to shower me with good wishes on my special day can have time to decide how to proceed.)
Anyhoo-the Bruce tickets are a gift from Big Daddy. Who, I might add, is the bomb. Seeing Bruce is on my bucket list. Meaning I want to see him before I die-or he does as the case may be.
Speaking of dying...I'm bumbed more than you could know about Bernie.
But, I digress. The Olympics are on and there is more wine to drink.
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2 comments:
I'm so addicted to the Olympics, and I'm not ashamed of it. OMG, and I also have a huge concert coming up. Can you say: N-E-I-L? Ahhh...good times never seemed so good. And howsabout my boys Rosenthal & Gibb on the beach volleyball team? USA! USA! USA! And word to what you said about Bernie...in the prime of his career, too. Wherever he is, I hope he knows how cool peeps thought he was.
Sweet Caroline, Erica! You get to see yourself some Neil.
Gotta go..Women's gymnastics and all. I always fancied myself a wannabe Nadia. I could do a back walkover with a wall to push me over. So as you can see, my olympic aspirations were never lived.
Mary Lou, however. That was fun!
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