I love warm weather. The weather today feels perfect, sunny, in the 80s, slight breeze. I like when it feels like a nice day to sit by the pool or the lake and read a good book. I would love three months of this weather, even with a little humidity thrown in the mix for good measure. I like summer. Unfortunately, this is only spring. This is only a sneak preview of the million-degree, 100% humidity weather that is about to descend on the swamp where I live.

I was very productive this morning. Now, need to work on being productive for the afternoon. I've been very chatty this afternoon. I talk fast. I love that the some of the guys in the LSO office area are also from the north east (one of them has a brother that lives in the Kohart-mecca of Garden City! small world!) - because they don't seem to mind when I go on a speed-talking spree (Though I think they find me amusing. The other young woman who works over here is more of a quiet-type, at least until you really get her going, so i think I've definitely raised the conversation levels a notch). Of course people from the south don't usually mind my speed-talking sprees either, I just think it takes some of them longer to get used to it. As you can tell, I'm feeling very chatty in writing too.

Apparently the word is out that I'm going to be a FDO because I'm getting lots of visitors to ask me about it.

Tonight: Driving range. Running. Make myself a non-junky dinner (I've been eating out a lot lately, and I am craving something wholesome).

I think I have managed to commit myself to sailing both Saturday and Sunday this weekend. How did that happen? When will I find time to mow the knee-high lawn? Stupid yard. Sailing last night was eventful though. We came in last place by 8 minutes! Why, you ask? Well, a pin broke on the traveller (trust me, this is important), sending us basically out of control about 30 seconds before the start. (This, of course, baffled the skipper of the boat that Gavin crews on, because up to this point, their strategy had been "Follow Richard & Becca"). So we docked at the beach club. I hopped out, ran down the dock to another sail boat tied up. A guy was walking down the dock in a Hawiian shirt, and I said "Hey, is that your boat?" And he got all proud, like I was going to ask him questions about it and ooh and ahh, so he responded something along the lines like "Why, yes it is, its a Catalina 27..." and I interupted with "You have a pin? [holding up the part that I needed a pin for] quick? we need to get back in the race!" So, anyway, they let us start, and we did the whole race course, because at least we'd get a point for finishing. We didn't realize lose, because does anyone really lose when you get to spend the evening sailing?


I just looked at this picture of Cicadas in Maryland. I read some stuff on them before, and I couldn't remember the last time they came out, even though I lived in Philadelphia at the time. But after seeing the picture, I had a total flash back! Janine Jarret and I in the climbing tree in the backyard on Savage Dr. -- she pointed out a cicada shell to me and told me how much fun it was to flick them off the trees. And after that, I remember us running around to all the trees in the neighborhood flicking the shells off the trees. I remember telling my mom and she said they were locusts. I didn't realize it was a one time thing, because I remember wanting to do the same thing the next summer and not being able to find any shells. It was strangley satisfying. Is that gross or what?