I can’t believe none of you have told me to shut the pie hole and zip and then can the proverbial “it”.
I suspect it’s because you’re all so nice. But as the old adage goes, nice guys
finish last have to trudge through thousands of words and words and more words just to get the real, one-sentence point of the matter.
Maybe it’s the finger cramp that’s been plaguing me for a whole hour or a divine revelation that sometimes I can’t say it best (even with record-breaking word counts) because today is your lucky day. I sat to write a post about our recent wedding reception. It was an adjective-by-adjective play-by-play of every sneeze and toe tap that occurred within a 100-mile, 4-hour radius of the shindig. To summarize, it was the opposite of easy reading. We’ll call it Chinese Wordy Torture for accuracy’s sake. I would tell you about the drunken slap-fight, and how it never happened, and how Tom considered this lack of violence the wedding’s greatest victory, and how I considered this a secret disappointment, and how the only aggressive thing that went down was my incredibly aggressive dancing, and how I tried to show my toddler the Nashville skyline, and how it turned into a lunatic reenactment of Michael Jackson dangling Blanket so he could kiss some fans 100 feet below, and how we hitched a ride on a bicycle taxi at night’s end, and how we realized we didn’t have money because we’d just paid for a wedding, and how the hipster cabbie was kind enough to let us pose on his bike, and how after a few snaps of the camera he was all “Seriously, bro and ho, get off my bike”. I’m out of breath just thinking about all the run-on sentences I was about to crank out. But no! Today is a lucky day, when the fabulous photos of Celi Mosley can speak a thousand words a piece and handle the rambling for me. Celi says in Swedish that you are all eight kinds of welcome.
So there you have it, the 37,360 word post minus some words and plus some serious *pretty.
*See the pretty up close! Click to enlarge pictures.