challenge schmalllenge

I'm so not winning the blog challenge, but this has been fun posting every day...ish (okay, that's even a stretch).

Yesterday was my last day at Emma as a single lady, where I heard the keyboard riff from The Final Countdown in my head on repeat (thanks in part to Marc). It was just crazy enough to make me just a teensy bit grateful to be on a two-week hiatus (but I will miss you dearly, Power Team et. al.). The day culminated in a quick patio visit with Erin & friends at Taproom, a trip to the airport to pick up Molly, and a hearty dinner of cheese fries and a cheeseburger at Melrose (in my defense, I only ate half of my burger. And all of the cheese fries).

This morning I woke up early to cheer on my half-marathoning friends, which was amazing. In the almost four years I've lived in Nashville I've never before gotten my butt out of bed to watch the race, which is shameful. The sunny weather and promise of seeing my friends reach their goals was compelling enough this year, though, and I'm hooked on that good feeling it gave me. See you next year, marathon.

Getting up early like that also made for a really long Saturday, which is perfect. Neil and I tried out Urban Flats for lunch (which was pretty good, and pretty reasonably priced) and then parked ourselves at Crema to hammer out some last minute tasks, like programs and signage. But instead we're blogging, twittering, and basically doing anything we can to procrastinate the tasks at hand. Perhaps another chai is in order.

I'll try and blog next week, but no promises. For now, I'll leave you with a cool poem about marriage by Steve Scafidi:

Prayer for a Marriage

When we are old one night and the moon
arcs over the house like an antique
China saucer and the teacup sun

follows somewhere far behind
I hope the stars deepen to a shine
so bright you could read by it

if you like and the sadnesses
we will have known go away
for awhile--in this hour or two

before sleep--and that we kiss
standing in the kitchen not fighting
gravity so much as embodying

its sweet force, and I hope we kiss
like we do today knowing so much
good is said in this primitive tongue

from the first surprising ones
to the lower dizzy ten thousand
infinitely slower ones--and I hope

while we stand there in the kitchen
making tea and kissing, the whistle
of the teapot wakes the neighbors.

Neil says I just like it because it talks about making tea, which is not untrue. It's nice to know I'm marrying someone who gets me.