Don't think I can write anything better than I wrote last year for him.
Her: Logan! You're too old to date so much.
Me: (sighing) Tell me about it.
It rained all weekend. Go out late Friday. Usual twirl.
Went to a BBQ Saturday with a friend from church and she and I spend the day lounging on Roosevelt Island. Lived here my whole life and have never been - the tram was out so I've still never been on that. See a purple dog and get drenched on the way back. Later that night, see HEI and her friends for drinks.
I decide to get off that online dating website cause: (a) don't have the time for it, (b) feel bad not responding to people, and (c) am tired of the disappointing and the being disappointed. So I go and delete all the emails I've gotten in the past month. But one from a pretty cake decorator stands out so I write:
My number's 917.555.4810. Why don't you text me as if we met last night so that we can say, quite honestly, that we met last night, I emailed you and then we texted back and forth for a bit. Because that's what young singltons do in the big city, I think.
She does and we do all weekend. End up grabbing coffee on Sunday.
Here's the thing: vegetarian. Not even pescatarian - full-on vegetarian. I oftentimes wonder if I'm part of some cosmic joke. But she has an easy laugh and a Georgia accent so we'll see.
Not looking forward to work - I haven't told most of you this but all my employees quit on me three weeks ago. Now one of them wants to come back.
After church on Sunday, my friend Christianne and I walk home. We're both waiting for our blue sky to come back and stay.