Donut Diplomacy

I once asked one of the nurses, Sharon, if they liked me only because of the donuts. Her response: “No. If you were stupid or a jerk, we’d eat your donuts but talk about you behind your back. We like the donuts, but we like you.” That’s one of the best, most honest compliments I’ve been given.

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Sometimes, Sonia will make donuts. Why sprinkles? Because winners get sprinkles.

“And on the seventh day, God rested. And said, ‘Let there be coffee. And let the donuts be plentiful. Let there be glazed donuts, and cake donuts, and long johns, and buttercream and custard filled Bismarcks. But there nay should be jelly donuts, as those are disgusting.’ And so it was. And as God rested, God said, ‘This is pretty good. Keep ‘em coming. And may I please get another cup of Joe?’”

Genesis 2:2, in the original Hebrew, or at least how it SHOULD read.

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Two Little Band-Aids

I guess that last growth spurt isn’t happening. That modeling contract keeps missing my mailbox (and I’d need A LOT of waxing). That rich, deep, baritone voice will elude me. I’ll settle for an endless supply of band-aids and show myself the door.

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In the intervening seven months, I’ve become a fashionista.

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Déjà Vu All Over Again

The conversation became very interesting when Mr. Salida asked me: “Would you go to Knox all over again? Would you use your sane skillset for the same major? Would you pick the same career?” Essentially would I do it all over again?

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Sunset near Carlsbad, NM.

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Manners, Hoodoos, & Detours

Phooey. Drat. Fiddlesticks. Those were Sonia’s words. It would be better for the blog if I don’t print my words. To paraphrase Tim O’brien, we had a detour on the road to Paris. Not awful, but not on the itinerary. Time to devise the infamous back-up plan.

 

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Surrounded by chipmunks at Bryce Canyon NP campground.

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Midpoint

We kind of descended upon my in laws’ house like a traveling band of gypsies. I know they were happy to have everyone, but unless you are used to 2 junior high boys and two very active girls (our niece is ten), it’s kind of a shock to the system.

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Breakfast in Arroyo Grande, Kesselrings and Harringtons

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Arizona, Part II: Hiking Yuppies are Evil

Andrew got pissed. Andrew let me know that we had one job to do – out hike the Montana yuppies at all cost. Andrew and I “speed hiked” the entire return trip. We passed them up, and the man then tried to keep up with us. We left him in our dust. It doesn’t matter ethnicity, gender, or other background. A spoilt brat is spoilt brat, and that guy deserved a paddling.

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West Fork Trail along Oak Creek, between Flagstaff and Sedona.

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