Heptadecagon

Warning: This might just be my most inappropriate blog post yet. (I'm sure you can tell by the red, bold, italicized words right?) So that means no kids should be reading this. (Ahem, Zoe and Talia.) That also means that many of you might be turned off by the language used in this blog post. They're just words, you know? And I've given you fair warning. I try so hard NOT to be crude when it comes to expletives. ( Sweet bacon crackers , anyone? Or my favorite exclamations ?) I usually keep my mouth in check, mostly for the sake of the children. But this summer? Well, things have changed. My life has been caught in a cycle of lather, rinse, repeat unlike any other I've experienced before, and my penchant for foul language has bubbled to the surface and stayed there. Over the past month or so, I've started cataloging scenes for a story of these not-so-lazy, curse-infused summer days in my head. So far, the most germane title I've come up with is That Fucking Su...

Here's the view from dinner last night. That's the parking lot, by the way... (Sorry for the screen grid. Doesn't make for the best picture, but I think you get my drift. Ha!)