The year is 2006, winter, second semester of my senior year of college. My brother, Troy, and Heather, my to-be sister-in-law, were out of town, returning in the wee hours of the morning. Troy asked me to go to the house and check on their newly adopted dog, Harley.
I got a mole lasered off my face yesterday. Not the Moley-Moley-Moley kind from Austin Powers, but the flesh-colored kind a la Tony La Russa.The one in question took up residence on my forehead long ago, right in between my eyes.
I have big news – yes, about a job, for which I actually get to fill out paperwork for Uncle Sam – but first, allow me to give a little context.
“You’re so perky,” a man from my hometown said to me earlier this week. I ran into him at the store after not seeing him for well over a decade. It was his words, more than his presence, that was a blast from the past.
Mark and I spent most of last week in Costa Rica. Are you picturing sandy beaches? Cause that’s not where we were at all.