my neighbors
another neighbor (he said he won't be around all summer, but I'll probably check on him anyway).
the first neighbor's fancy-pants fake-ass "i'm in the WEST!" driveway entrance. I'm pretty sure no one lives there. I taunted them endlessly and no one came out.
The Dustin has come and gone and due to the gas-hogginess of his vehicle will probably not be back for some time. I'm not sure I'm sad about that. He is hyperactive. I am sleepy and bookwormy. He will only take one nap a day with me. Brat. No, it was great to see him. We went hiking (I'm loving simple sentences. A reaction to a full nine months of College-Level interactions.). There were moose. They scared me and did not want to drink whiskey with us. Or Dustin.
Job is wonderful, the forest service is my first crush since sixth grade (not the italian kid, the non-italian) and I think I'm going to marry it. Everyone seems to love what they do (minus the one day of office work that goes with most positions) and it shows.
There is a greater number of good-looking men in this town than in the whole state of Kentucky (you're not from Kentucky David, and are therefore beautiful) but they are the "beanie-wearing, skateboarding, cool-beer-drinking, adult-hippie" types that I tend to dislike. Until I realize I don't. Which sometimes never happens. Funny how that works. At any rate, zero to negative interest for that anyway. Kentucky has me trained I guess. God damn Kentucky.
There is a microbrewery (or two?) in town. It scares me. I am horrible in bars. I hide behind people and pull my hood up to hide my dreads (because there is no meaning but Granola for dreads in this town) and squeak at the bartenders until they come over and accuse me of being twelve. But the beer is wonderful, and after a half an hour or so (felt like it) I managed to purchase a sixback of a delicious stout (the thickest I've ever had).
And...much much more!
Like - I am back in awesome-boogar land and loving that.
And - next year I could (probably) easily get a volunteer position with a biologist which could (probably) easily count for credit or internship of some kind. As the current biologist's boy is a freshman biology major. Pooh to freshmanness. Heh. Oh, and I passed all of my classes apparently. Very well apparently. I AM smug.
Boo-Lib
3 comments:
Oh, Libby! You seem happy! This makes me happy. ^_^
Libby,
I saw your post and knew that I had to go get a cup of coffee before we caught up. This is beautiful my love.
You sound like happier than happier. I wish pretty hard core that I could come see you.
And if you cut your dreds then i will kick you in the face. fuck granola.
I'm glad you were happy to see the Dustin.
I you need to return my voice mail and instinctively know when I am available to talk.
don't feed the bears. with your flesh.
love you madly woman!
Libby, don't tell anybody, but I like your updates the most.
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