I'm back from Vegas, and I still have $100. To me that's like leaving a party when there's still Maker's Mark in the bottle, but somehow I managed to do it.
One of my favorite things about Vegas was the pillow talk. Now, I know this is sappy, but I haven't talked quietly in bed with someone for well over a year. But on this trip I shared a bed with Superman, and at the end of the first night we talked for a few minutes in bed. I told him a short anecdote from my past - a very inconsequential story signifying nothing - but in the dark of night under the covers it felt like a profound secret shared only by the two of us.
Before you freak out - no, I'm not in love. I am just saying that I miss pillow talk, and I didn't realize I missed it until Friday night.
Just like I didn't realize how much I missed the Portland rain until I returned from the desert last evening. We were greeted by a gloriously cool evening and refreshing raindrops falling from the sky.
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