Two Fridays ago (I know, I’m late in the game. This is old news by now. My wounds are almost healed. My apologies.) I got a phone call from a good friend and old climbing buddy. We’ll call him Pedro. Pedro called to confirm/discuss the details for a last minute endeavor: climbing at The Gunks.
After Facebook statuses like this: Y’all are probably in stitches wanting to know the details. And also wondering why my phone-facebook-statusing-skills are sub-par in the spell-check category (hint: the answer lies within the status). However, today is not the day for a detailed rundown of what happened yesterday, fifty feet in the air. Today, I
Tomorrow, after a day of rubies, rhinestones and graphic design, I will pick this up: Tomorrow, I’ll be clipping my fingernails back to a stage only nail-biters know of. Tomorrow, I’ll be trying on gear, remembering why people of my sport don’t have pedicures. All because the day after tomorrow, I’ll be driving north. Back
Question: How many of you read my previous post and questioned my knowledge of the flora and fauna of our nation’s capitol? How many of you knew my mistake, but made no attempt to correct me? If no one noticed, maybe I’m not as bad of an American as I though I was. This, my