That last screenshot of the Capital One website had an image of a restaurant I worked at when I lived in Richmond. It’s a Richmond thing.

Mark Hunter ran in and completed the Richmond Marathon today. His time was three hours and some change for this, his first attempt at this distance. His dad said he could’ve done better. We all agree. I think Mark is content being the only person any of us know to have (insert).

I’m coming home with some Team Tampa paraphenalia designed by Kim Chi.

It was nice to get a big hug from Jackie, and my Smallville DVDs back today at Baker’s Crust.

Conor and I are back in Charlottesville now, almost a hundred miles away from Richmond, and at least one hundred conversations closer to figuring nothing out about women–and better for it?

We found some of the same healing sounds playlisted on eachother’s iPods and heard them on repeat. It seems soon we’ll share another song, to comfort, but she’ll have a different name and better reasons than this month’s best, “you’re too nice to date,” hopefully.

Seriously, ladies.

Leaves fall and look pretty while they do. But eventually they’re all dead, ugly, and replaced. I don’t want to be a fucking leaf.