Travel & Lifestyle Freelance Writer | Market Research Consultant
Coming back from my run this morning I saw a guy going out for ride not on his bicycle, but on his unicycle.
And he was pretty ripped (although not quite as ripped as Mr. Soltys).
I went over the awesomeness of my being that buff and momentarily contemplated picking up unicycling as a hobby.
But then I realized that that was never, ever going to happen.
Went to the Boulder Philharmonic Orchestra last night primarily to see acclaimed concert pianist Hsing-ay Hsu (I know her!) perform a solo during.
Mike and I sat riveted during her Bach piece, watching in awe as her fingers alternately sashayed and stomped across the keys of the massive Steinway.
The second half (is that what the part after half-time is called?) was a piece by Mahler*, which wasn’t quite as interesting–although we were able to pick up on at least three glorified nursery rhymes during this part–but it did allow me to concentrate on conductor Michael Butterman’s shiny locks as he whipped his head around animatedly in time with his maestro stick.
I left the concert with a new-found appreciation for classical music and a burning desire to know what kind of conditioner Butterman uses.
*Note, I’m proud of myself for knowing these composer guys’ names, but truth be told, I’m just cutting and pasting them from the press release.
I keep trying to convince my wonderful boyfriend that he’s a feminist simply because he believes that women and men deserve equal respect.
My hope though does occasionally waver … like when he describes the problems surrounding “gender rolls.”
Mmmm. The watermelon I’m munching on right now tastes an awful lot like the garlic Mike cut up the other night for our vegetable ratatouille. Maybe I should be just a little more concerned with my dish washing (and cutting board washing) shortcomings.
Need more proof that text messaging is a passive-aggressive form of communication?
Here’s a for-instance for you.
Consider Mike who opted to warn with his roommate textually, instead of verbally, last night about the sprinkler system around their new apartment.
That choice resulted William’s disturbance this morning around 5 a.m. by a stream of water and what I can only imagine was a hurried exit from his hammock.
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.