PG came to lunch today with my sister and niece. I didn't really intend on inviting her; she kind of invited herself.
Me: "So, I don't know if you included me in your lunch plans, but I'm eating out today."
PG: "Okay. Where do you want to go?"
Me: "Well, I'm meeting my sister out."
PG: "Great! I'll come."
I couldn't help feeling that the invitation was pretty sly, but I decided it was fine because I'd been taking an interest into getting to know her better as a friend. And what better way to get to know someone than by exposing them to your family, especially cute little nieces. I remembered a story my friend Tommy would tell me about using his niece at the mall to get dates. I thought a cute little niece would be perfect in getting PG to go out with me.
Little did I know things would not go well as planned.
I suffered a few embarrassing moments at lunch today. The first one was trying to garnish a kiss from my niece, who had decidedly become coy. The second was trying to pay for lunch, which resulted in me borrowing 20 bucks from my sister and PG covering the rest (because they didn't take cards.) The third was egging on my niece to give PG a compliment, which was met with resounding silence. So much for trying to charm her.
Lunch was good though. My sister and PG got on pretty well. My niece calmed down a little bit and kept taking big sips from my apple juice. Before we knew it, lunch was up and we had to get back to work. Upon tucking her in the car seat, my niece finally gave me a kiss and a cute little smile, as if to say, "Sorry to ruin your plans." Little turd.
PG looked really cute today with a new haircut she got over the weekend. A few hours after lunch she started flirting with me like she used to a few months ago. I can't figure that girl out sometimes. But even though a small part of me still likes her, it's been easier to work with her since I've taken a few steps back. I can't help but think she's taken a renewed interest in me as well. Maybe it's because I told her I was hanging out with some other girls at work over the last few weeks.
And I guess my plan worked a little bit. On the walk back, PG suggested we go to dinner sometime. After she graduates next month.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
Do I Give Off The Wrong Vibe?
A funny incident happened to me the other day at work.
I was walking by the sunglass case and saw two young girls. Now, seeing younger clients isn't strange for the store I work in, let alone young people checking out designer sunglasses.
I decided to go and help them while I was on my way to send a fax. So I called out to them, asking if they needed assistance.
As I approached, fax in hand, a funny thing happened. I stopped about three feet away from them and the case, offering to open it up. One of the girls looked at me, then looked me up and down. With a strange look in her eyes, she stepped closer to her girlfriend, then the two of them uncomfortably grabbed hands and stood there, like deer in headlights.
I was practically baffled. One, because all of that happened in a matter of a moment and it was a pretty distinct message. Secondly, their message suddenly made me feel like I was a creep, even though I could swear I wasn't looking at them that way. They weren't even my type.
(...)
Another thing happened today. I went to a play with a co-worker today. While the whole thing was pretty cool, every time I tried to be cordial to her she flat out refused.
Me: "Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?"
Her: "No thanks."
Me: "Are you sure? It's gonna be a few hours."
Her: "I'm fine."
Later, during intermission, I offered her my jacket to cover her. It was unusually cold in the theatre (which was also strange,) and she only came dressed in a leather jacket and jeans. And the tightly crossed legs and arms were a sure sign that she must be freezing. Same thing-- complete refusal, as if I was asking to sleep with her. And the whole thing made me feel like a jerk.
I guess I'm not used to women acting so guarded around me. I don't know what's up. It might be just a few strange cases in the last few days, but I can't be sure. In an unrelated conversation, I even asked a new girl at work the other day about whether or not I make people feel weird. She said the only reason why she talks to me is because I don't look at her like a piece of meat.
So I'm at a loss.
But maybe it's something that has nothing to do with me. Right?
I was walking by the sunglass case and saw two young girls. Now, seeing younger clients isn't strange for the store I work in, let alone young people checking out designer sunglasses.
I decided to go and help them while I was on my way to send a fax. So I called out to them, asking if they needed assistance.
As I approached, fax in hand, a funny thing happened. I stopped about three feet away from them and the case, offering to open it up. One of the girls looked at me, then looked me up and down. With a strange look in her eyes, she stepped closer to her girlfriend, then the two of them uncomfortably grabbed hands and stood there, like deer in headlights.
I was practically baffled. One, because all of that happened in a matter of a moment and it was a pretty distinct message. Secondly, their message suddenly made me feel like I was a creep, even though I could swear I wasn't looking at them that way. They weren't even my type.
(...)
Another thing happened today. I went to a play with a co-worker today. While the whole thing was pretty cool, every time I tried to be cordial to her she flat out refused.
Me: "Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?"
Her: "No thanks."
Me: "Are you sure? It's gonna be a few hours."
Her: "I'm fine."
Later, during intermission, I offered her my jacket to cover her. It was unusually cold in the theatre (which was also strange,) and she only came dressed in a leather jacket and jeans. And the tightly crossed legs and arms were a sure sign that she must be freezing. Same thing-- complete refusal, as if I was asking to sleep with her. And the whole thing made me feel like a jerk.
I guess I'm not used to women acting so guarded around me. I don't know what's up. It might be just a few strange cases in the last few days, but I can't be sure. In an unrelated conversation, I even asked a new girl at work the other day about whether or not I make people feel weird. She said the only reason why she talks to me is because I don't look at her like a piece of meat.
So I'm at a loss.
But maybe it's something that has nothing to do with me. Right?
Saturday, April 22, 2006
On Probation
So, B and I have patched things up a little bit. Actually, it was quite a bit considering we're pretty much back to our routine friendship after yesterday.
I'm here tonight, crashing on her couch, as per usual. We had a fun night of bowling, drinks, and a hella-long drive to Jersey to bring a girl from work home so she wouldn't have to ride the train and bus tonight.
Last night, I called B to ask if she wanted to partake in tonight's festivites for the co-worker who's last week it was. When we decide to go out together, we always carpool. So I popped my usual question of whether she or I were to take a car into the city. I called her at her office, and she said she would get back to me later.
I got a page from work later from the front door and called the proper extension. "You're driving," said the voice. Pause.
"Huh," I said, taking a minute to register. B was downstairs, talking with her now ex-boyfriend-- don't ask me, it's weird about those two, and I joined them for a minute.
The next thing I know, I'm being dragged to Bloomingdale's to help B shop for a handbag. We decided to take the train home together, then decided to get off at my stop to get my car. The whole way home to her house we chatted. As if nothing had happened over the last two months. Things were pretty much back to normal.
Considering that the last ride we took together was pretty much silent space, I decided to ask about our status as friends. "Am I on probation," I joked. "Yeah," she said with a smile.
Which brings us to tonight. On the way to her car, the lot of us grabbed a slice of pizza. B and I were in queue for the rest room and I decided to drive her home. (We switched cars this morning because she couldn't drive stick.) B was a little fucked up from the shots she had, so I bargained for the keys. I also made a deal that she would respect my honesty from now on. "On one condition," I started. "You have to tell me why you were mad at me."
"It wasn't what you said that made me mad," she answered. "It was that you got offended."
Offended? For being honest?? Her drunken-yet-honest answer was yes.
I still can't wrap that one around my head. But the important thing is that we're friends again.
(On a side note, the ride home was pretty funny. The whole way back from Jersey, she was passed out, but managed to mumble "Cold!" whenever I rolled the window down too low to have a smoke. After the fifth time (it was a long drive,) it became pretty funny. For me at least.)
I'm here tonight, crashing on her couch, as per usual. We had a fun night of bowling, drinks, and a hella-long drive to Jersey to bring a girl from work home so she wouldn't have to ride the train and bus tonight.
Last night, I called B to ask if she wanted to partake in tonight's festivites for the co-worker who's last week it was. When we decide to go out together, we always carpool. So I popped my usual question of whether she or I were to take a car into the city. I called her at her office, and she said she would get back to me later.
I got a page from work later from the front door and called the proper extension. "You're driving," said the voice. Pause.
"Huh," I said, taking a minute to register. B was downstairs, talking with her now ex-boyfriend-- don't ask me, it's weird about those two, and I joined them for a minute.
The next thing I know, I'm being dragged to Bloomingdale's to help B shop for a handbag. We decided to take the train home together, then decided to get off at my stop to get my car. The whole way home to her house we chatted. As if nothing had happened over the last two months. Things were pretty much back to normal.
Considering that the last ride we took together was pretty much silent space, I decided to ask about our status as friends. "Am I on probation," I joked. "Yeah," she said with a smile.
Which brings us to tonight. On the way to her car, the lot of us grabbed a slice of pizza. B and I were in queue for the rest room and I decided to drive her home. (We switched cars this morning because she couldn't drive stick.) B was a little fucked up from the shots she had, so I bargained for the keys. I also made a deal that she would respect my honesty from now on. "On one condition," I started. "You have to tell me why you were mad at me."
"It wasn't what you said that made me mad," she answered. "It was that you got offended."
Offended? For being honest?? Her drunken-yet-honest answer was yes.
I still can't wrap that one around my head. But the important thing is that we're friends again.
(On a side note, the ride home was pretty funny. The whole way back from Jersey, she was passed out, but managed to mumble "Cold!" whenever I rolled the window down too low to have a smoke. After the fifth time (it was a long drive,) it became pretty funny. For me at least.)
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Buono Pasqua
Easter Sunday.
I'm only slept a couple of hours because I went to bed at 6 this morning. I went to a friend's wake for his late sister yesterday, and by the time I got home at 2 a.m. I couldn't sleep, so I did laundry at the 24-hour laundromat.
While I was doing laundry, I managed to speed through the latter half of The Da Vinci Code, so by the time I got home at 4 a.m. I had about 60 pages to go. I simply couldn't put this book down without finishing, so I did precisely that.
I went to bed, knowing I accomplished two things very difficult to do (on a Sunday) for me: laundry (weekend traffic,) and finishing a book.
(...)
About 3 hours later, my phone rings. It's Boss, wishing me a Happy Easter, but in Italian.
Now I'm awake and the bags under my eyes are protesting. I am of a more adventurous mind, however, and have decided to do something unprecedented in all my Sundays: get up.
I don't think the holiday has anything to do with my sudden interest in wanting to enjoy this day.
But I'm feeling pretty religious after last night's wake and the book, so who knows.
(...)
I met some nice people at last night's gathering. My friend Arthur has surrounded his life with some pretty great folks. You can just tell that all the people in his life have good natures within themselves. I went there to dispense a few beverages, but ended up staying all the way through cleanup. I watched as Arthur's friends just kept the party going, serving food, taking plates, cleaning up. It was a little congested and confusing at times while Arthur and his mother doled out requests to the help, but things had their own way of settling in to a natural groove.
Between serving drinks and helping myself to the most amazing collection of food (yes, baked mac & cheese was there,) I just sat down off to the side. People just started talking with me, and I listened. Each one had a smile inside themselves that was hard to miss. They had some great stories, too. By the night's end I had met 6 new people, but felt like I'd known them for years and we were just catching up.
It's interesting about Arthur. He's one of those people who are so giving in their lives. You can see that his generosity comes from his upbringing and that he enjoys bringing people together. It's a refreshing sight to see especially when it comes to the way our world is today.
(...)
Normally I don't give money to people who ask, but last night was an exception. I'm getting ready to get back in the laundromat. It's 3:45 a.m. Only three people, including me, around, with the exception of the two police cruisers around the corner and the random passerby.
As always, as if out of nowhere, out comes this guy from around the corner. I've been in this scenario a million times since I've lived here. These people (not really homeless or in need,) have improved their approach over the last few years. You can tell by the look in their eyes that they're talking to you. And the "Excuse me," is also a dead giveaway. Now, you've turned and acknowledged them, because they have been so polite, giving them the chance to tell their sob story.
Now, I'm a bastard. I had decided a while ago that instead of just giving money to everyone who asks or to no one at all, I'm gonna weigh my decision to donate on whether or not I believe their story. It might have something to do with my appreciation for acting, but it's been my stance ever since. That, and after you keep seeing the same few panhandlers every other week, the whole thing gets old. Quickly. I remember a New York Post expose last year that found a woman who wrapped herself in a blanket on the city streets in one photo was found jogging Central Park in the next. And her panhandling skills apparently yielded enough dough to furnish herself in a nice Upper West Side apartment. Her discovered income was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, and my distaste for people preying on the good nature and generosity of others was firmly established from that moment on.
So I decided to give this guy a shot. He was well-spoken, albeit a semi-drunken stupor. Dressed in worn, but not homeless, clothing, he then launched into a pretty lengthy story of his demise. Apparently, he was a just-returned soldier from Iraq, who had been the victim of a thieving hooker. Now a truck driver with only his identification, he required me to buy him a ticket to Upstate New York in order for him to get home and report for work. His elaborate plan to enlist my help involved me taking his commercial driving license as collateral for his fare, then mailing my reimbursement, provided I mail him back his id.
Now, like I said, I'm a bastard. But I'm not stupid. His story was a good one, despite a lot of things that didn't make any sense at all. But I was not about to put my life in any jeopardy on account of trusting some random dude, regardless of whether he was a soldier or not. And I wasn't about to question the validity of his alleged service to our country. That would be cynical and smart, but rude in a way. I also realized that exposing my money to a stranger was a pretty stupid move on my part.
So I decided to give him a dollar. "And how long would I have to wait for this dollar?" he asked. "Just a minute," I said. "I need to use the bathroom."
So I did. Then I gave him what I promised, thinking about how I was going to defend myself if things all of a sudden got weird. When he left, I felt a tinge of relief that he was gone. It was almost 4 a.m. and I was in the middle of a deserted Brooklyn parking lot, with only the attendant of the laundromat looking on. To be alone again was a relief.
(...)
So now I guess I'll get up and try to enjoy the rest of this day. Seems like a good day to visit The Bridge.
I'm only slept a couple of hours because I went to bed at 6 this morning. I went to a friend's wake for his late sister yesterday, and by the time I got home at 2 a.m. I couldn't sleep, so I did laundry at the 24-hour laundromat.
While I was doing laundry, I managed to speed through the latter half of The Da Vinci Code, so by the time I got home at 4 a.m. I had about 60 pages to go. I simply couldn't put this book down without finishing, so I did precisely that.
I went to bed, knowing I accomplished two things very difficult to do (on a Sunday) for me: laundry (weekend traffic,) and finishing a book.
(...)
About 3 hours later, my phone rings. It's Boss, wishing me a Happy Easter, but in Italian.
Now I'm awake and the bags under my eyes are protesting. I am of a more adventurous mind, however, and have decided to do something unprecedented in all my Sundays: get up.
I don't think the holiday has anything to do with my sudden interest in wanting to enjoy this day.
But I'm feeling pretty religious after last night's wake and the book, so who knows.
(...)
I met some nice people at last night's gathering. My friend Arthur has surrounded his life with some pretty great folks. You can just tell that all the people in his life have good natures within themselves. I went there to dispense a few beverages, but ended up staying all the way through cleanup. I watched as Arthur's friends just kept the party going, serving food, taking plates, cleaning up. It was a little congested and confusing at times while Arthur and his mother doled out requests to the help, but things had their own way of settling in to a natural groove.
Between serving drinks and helping myself to the most amazing collection of food (yes, baked mac & cheese was there,) I just sat down off to the side. People just started talking with me, and I listened. Each one had a smile inside themselves that was hard to miss. They had some great stories, too. By the night's end I had met 6 new people, but felt like I'd known them for years and we were just catching up.
It's interesting about Arthur. He's one of those people who are so giving in their lives. You can see that his generosity comes from his upbringing and that he enjoys bringing people together. It's a refreshing sight to see especially when it comes to the way our world is today.
(...)
Normally I don't give money to people who ask, but last night was an exception. I'm getting ready to get back in the laundromat. It's 3:45 a.m. Only three people, including me, around, with the exception of the two police cruisers around the corner and the random passerby.
As always, as if out of nowhere, out comes this guy from around the corner. I've been in this scenario a million times since I've lived here. These people (not really homeless or in need,) have improved their approach over the last few years. You can tell by the look in their eyes that they're talking to you. And the "Excuse me," is also a dead giveaway. Now, you've turned and acknowledged them, because they have been so polite, giving them the chance to tell their sob story.
Now, I'm a bastard. I had decided a while ago that instead of just giving money to everyone who asks or to no one at all, I'm gonna weigh my decision to donate on whether or not I believe their story. It might have something to do with my appreciation for acting, but it's been my stance ever since. That, and after you keep seeing the same few panhandlers every other week, the whole thing gets old. Quickly. I remember a New York Post expose last year that found a woman who wrapped herself in a blanket on the city streets in one photo was found jogging Central Park in the next. And her panhandling skills apparently yielded enough dough to furnish herself in a nice Upper West Side apartment. Her discovered income was in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, and my distaste for people preying on the good nature and generosity of others was firmly established from that moment on.
So I decided to give this guy a shot. He was well-spoken, albeit a semi-drunken stupor. Dressed in worn, but not homeless, clothing, he then launched into a pretty lengthy story of his demise. Apparently, he was a just-returned soldier from Iraq, who had been the victim of a thieving hooker. Now a truck driver with only his identification, he required me to buy him a ticket to Upstate New York in order for him to get home and report for work. His elaborate plan to enlist my help involved me taking his commercial driving license as collateral for his fare, then mailing my reimbursement, provided I mail him back his id.
Now, like I said, I'm a bastard. But I'm not stupid. His story was a good one, despite a lot of things that didn't make any sense at all. But I was not about to put my life in any jeopardy on account of trusting some random dude, regardless of whether he was a soldier or not. And I wasn't about to question the validity of his alleged service to our country. That would be cynical and smart, but rude in a way. I also realized that exposing my money to a stranger was a pretty stupid move on my part.
So I decided to give him a dollar. "And how long would I have to wait for this dollar?" he asked. "Just a minute," I said. "I need to use the bathroom."
So I did. Then I gave him what I promised, thinking about how I was going to defend myself if things all of a sudden got weird. When he left, I felt a tinge of relief that he was gone. It was almost 4 a.m. and I was in the middle of a deserted Brooklyn parking lot, with only the attendant of the laundromat looking on. To be alone again was a relief.
(...)
So now I guess I'll get up and try to enjoy the rest of this day. Seems like a good day to visit The Bridge.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
So Hard To Party
It is so hard to get people in this city together to do something.
Before I moved here, whenever we wanted to get together to do something in Denver, it was much simpler. A few phone calls, a common meeting place, and a few short hours later, Bam!: Instant Party.
Here in New York, a simple activity of, let's say, bowling, somehow involves a lot more time and involvement to execute.
My current frustration is trying to get a few of us together to send off one of our co-workers. Alas, he's decided that retail doesn't pay enough and will go back to waiting tables. So I took it upon myself to try and organize a little get together to celebrate his last day.
So far I've been met with a lot of frustration trying to get said get together going. It's hard enough to have an occasion to get together for, let alone trying to get people to commit to going. And since I'm the one with the idea in the first place, I'm alone in trying to get this little thing accomplished. Which, at the current rate, sucks.
I somehow wonder if there's a secret formula I'm missing out on.
Before I moved here, whenever we wanted to get together to do something in Denver, it was much simpler. A few phone calls, a common meeting place, and a few short hours later, Bam!: Instant Party.
Here in New York, a simple activity of, let's say, bowling, somehow involves a lot more time and involvement to execute.
My current frustration is trying to get a few of us together to send off one of our co-workers. Alas, he's decided that retail doesn't pay enough and will go back to waiting tables. So I took it upon myself to try and organize a little get together to celebrate his last day.
So far I've been met with a lot of frustration trying to get said get together going. It's hard enough to have an occasion to get together for, let alone trying to get people to commit to going. And since I'm the one with the idea in the first place, I'm alone in trying to get this little thing accomplished. Which, at the current rate, sucks.
I somehow wonder if there's a secret formula I'm missing out on.
Friday, April 07, 2006
A Declaration-- Of Sorts
I am officially giving up on women.
No-- this does not mean I'm forgoing the opposite sex. It just means that girls are mean and I'm going to try and enjoy being single, rather than try to enjoy chasing after them, which is not really enjoyable after all.
I think the only rule I'll have is to stop pursuing women for the time being, outside of calling friends. I don't know how long I will keep this up-- it's just for now.
So, starting today, I am a monk, if you will, and will consider myself restrained.
No-- this does not mean I'm forgoing the opposite sex. It just means that girls are mean and I'm going to try and enjoy being single, rather than try to enjoy chasing after them, which is not really enjoyable after all.
I think the only rule I'll have is to stop pursuing women for the time being, outside of calling friends. I don't know how long I will keep this up-- it's just for now.
So, starting today, I am a monk, if you will, and will consider myself restrained.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Mad... For Now
This is what B said on the ride home tonight.
We went out for her boyfriend's birthday to a Rangers game. I called early this morning to make sure I was still going, since we made plans 2 months ago, then all the recent shit that went down. I figured I was out for tonight. When I asked if I was still going, she said yes, then, "Ask him."
So I met her at the game with our other friends. When we got to the section, kisses and hugs were handed out. "Nice to see you," I said, "Friend-Who-Is-Still-Mad-With-Me," while I leaned in for a greeting kiss. She smiled and said, "Hi."
The game was awesome. I've been to a few games before but nothing like this. The Rangers went into overtime, then a shootout. The crowd was amped. By the third period I found myself yelling and screaming like I was a ten-year die-hard fan.
We didn't talk the whole game, except for when I asked how she was getting home. I figured it my opportunity to talk with her about our sitch. She was driving, though I didn't ask if I could hitch a ride.
The game ended and we all walked out. By the time we got outside B had agreed to take me home. Good, I thought. This would be my chance to work things out.
Boy was I wrong. Our cab ride to her car was completely silent, save for the request from me to get cigarettes. The drive home was a little better. I felt a little tension because I was trying to find an opportunity to break the ice. I was starting and stopping inside, wanting the words "I'm sorry" to come out. Nothing came.
Finally, at a stoplight I said something. "Are you gonna stay mad with me." She replied, "For now."
Well that was okay. I mean, she was driving me home. How mad could she really be?
When we pulled up, I tried to think of a million things to say, something to try and open things up again. It was no use. B's the kind of person who completely cuts you off with silence. But I didn't feel that she was really angry. It seemed like she just wanted to hold on to her feelings for the moment. "Don't stay mad for long," I said as I thanked her for the ride. "Okay," she offered in the softest tone I'd heard from her in the last month.
We'll be fine, I thought as I walked away to my door. Just let it go for now.
We went out for her boyfriend's birthday to a Rangers game. I called early this morning to make sure I was still going, since we made plans 2 months ago, then all the recent shit that went down. I figured I was out for tonight. When I asked if I was still going, she said yes, then, "Ask him."
So I met her at the game with our other friends. When we got to the section, kisses and hugs were handed out. "Nice to see you," I said, "Friend-Who-Is-Still-Mad-With-Me," while I leaned in for a greeting kiss. She smiled and said, "Hi."
The game was awesome. I've been to a few games before but nothing like this. The Rangers went into overtime, then a shootout. The crowd was amped. By the third period I found myself yelling and screaming like I was a ten-year die-hard fan.
We didn't talk the whole game, except for when I asked how she was getting home. I figured it my opportunity to talk with her about our sitch. She was driving, though I didn't ask if I could hitch a ride.
The game ended and we all walked out. By the time we got outside B had agreed to take me home. Good, I thought. This would be my chance to work things out.
Boy was I wrong. Our cab ride to her car was completely silent, save for the request from me to get cigarettes. The drive home was a little better. I felt a little tension because I was trying to find an opportunity to break the ice. I was starting and stopping inside, wanting the words "I'm sorry" to come out. Nothing came.
Finally, at a stoplight I said something. "Are you gonna stay mad with me." She replied, "For now."
Well that was okay. I mean, she was driving me home. How mad could she really be?
When we pulled up, I tried to think of a million things to say, something to try and open things up again. It was no use. B's the kind of person who completely cuts you off with silence. But I didn't feel that she was really angry. It seemed like she just wanted to hold on to her feelings for the moment. "Don't stay mad for long," I said as I thanked her for the ride. "Okay," she offered in the softest tone I'd heard from her in the last month.
We'll be fine, I thought as I walked away to my door. Just let it go for now.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Super-Visiting-Friend
It's always a marathon every time I come out here.
I'm amazed that I have survived on 3-4 hours of sleep a night, considering I've been going pretty hard the last few days. A visit here, lunch there, a drink here, and I've trapsed all over the entire county of Denver. I must have seen close to 60 people I've known in the last few days.
And I have two more to go.
Lots to update about. Houses and babies are the theme for this trip. A lot of Denver has new condos and hotels with more on the way.
Will write soon though. Have more people to see.
I'm amazed that I have survived on 3-4 hours of sleep a night, considering I've been going pretty hard the last few days. A visit here, lunch there, a drink here, and I've trapsed all over the entire county of Denver. I must have seen close to 60 people I've known in the last few days.
And I have two more to go.
Lots to update about. Houses and babies are the theme for this trip. A lot of Denver has new condos and hotels with more on the way.
Will write soon though. Have more people to see.
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