My last full day/night in the city was a Monday, and involved the Comcast and pork excursion. After that I went back to the apartment and took apart my bed and desk. I should have taken more photographs of the chaos that reigned supreme in the bedroom and living room for the last week or so of my habitation there, but I was too busy actually doing things. I had called Mr. Ass weeks before to inquire about his availability to help me schlep these last large parts of my life to the storage unit in his family's SUV. He incredibly said yes. So he arrived and with perhaps a bit more leg and arm work than either of us had entirely expected, we managed to get almost all the rest of my stuff into the storage unit in one go. Mr. Ass was kind enough, also, to take a photograph of me upon our finally stuffing the last of my possessions into the unit. Then we went to Johnny Brenda's and had a delightful dinner...but all the photographs of said dinner came out so bad that I can't even attempt to save them. Just believe that the four different kinds of oysters were all good in their special ways, and that the burger there is not shabby.
When I was in Denver just a few days ago, I was telling my friend P. and his wife C. about my strange tendency to want to put a thumbs up in many of the photographs taken of me...but that I suppress that urge, thinking it's hokey or tacky. The trouble, then, is that I instead still have my hand in a position similar to that of a thumbs up...only without the thumb, you know, being up. Which really makes me seem like some younger and female version of Bob Dole. All I need is a pen really.
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