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Sunday, October 6, 2013

So I met this incredibly hot young bodybuilder on Friday

using the flirt technique of squatting in the power rack next to the one he was using with his friend. He wandered over to chat a couple of times. We didn't rush off to have a December-May romance or anything but he is cool, squats to depth too. Lifting weights is good. Then, when I ran into him Saturday (what? I go to the gym a lot) he had hurt himself that day lifting also (I'm not blogging about that cuz I'm sick of my fucking lower back, and why focus on that when a tall, young, hulking hottie with blue-eyes is gazing down at me...). Could it be we were both showing off a little?

While I'm on the subject of twenty-something year-olds, this song reminds me of being heartbroken at that time of my life and driving to visit my friend in Detroit.

And, while I like listening to it again after all this time, bittersweet and all that, what I really should have been thinking was this.


Yes, I tend to do a lot of driving during relationship trauma. In fight or flight I pick flight to avoid embarrassment or potentially exhuming a situation that should be left to die.

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