Today I read "Anders Loves Maria" in its entirety. I listened to "Heartbeats" by The Knife about 45 times. The combination of these activities began to erode my weak defenses against emotion.
Fortunately, I got outside. I went to the farm. There was plenty of beer drinking. There was a dubstep dance party complete with cowboy hats. Paul helped me show Kristin a good time by ripping around on the Gator. We opened some beer cans with screwdrivers, and Paul lit my face on fire. I apologized pretty soon after punching him and throwing him on the ground with some loud fuck-yous.
The thing I really took away was the promise made by James. He said he'd quit his job next year and hike the Appalachian Trail with me. We were all drinking beer, but he said it. He's an experienced backpacker, and I intend to remind him that he said he'd quit work and start walking with me. That would be quite the adventure, I think.
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