Boys and other Ewwy things

OK, so I don’t really think that boys are ewwy. But it was so fun to write.

First of all, some Skyway restaurant is offering, as soup of the month, Zucchini Dill.

Vomit.

So this weekend I met a guy. Two, actually. Now, before you go and get excited, I wasn’t interested in either one, and I don’t think they were interested in me either. But these days, being in the presence of a guy between the ages of 20 and 40 who’s single and not gay counts as “meeting a guy.” If I had been interested, it would have been a great situation. The one guy was group leader for a church in the metro area, just got out of college, and we ended up being small group leaders together. That meant that we spent most of the time together, including the low-ropes course. Large quantities of physical contact. All rated G, though, not even PG.

Today coming back from getting coffee (it’s Peppermint Mocha time at Starbucks! Merry Christmas!), a lady in the elevator asked me about my hairstyle. She specifically asked if it had a name. A name? Seriously? She apparently really liked it. Never gonna happen for her unless we chop off my hair and glue it to her head, though. Gotta say I’m one-of-a-kind in that department.