All the walls come down

I've been drinking Margarita's. Tequila makes me very free with comments. It can be quite dangerous, particularly when I start typing.

I sometimes think all the good men are taken. At least all the good men I know are. I have so many mini-crushes right now and every one of them is on a married guy. Obviously I keep this to myself as I'm not a homewrecker, but I sometimes wonder if I'm destined to be a spinster. I was getting some schtuff from one of the Trek guys that knows the Chippendale who was kidding me about the fact that I was dumped by him. It's true, I can't even hold on to the likes of someone as quirky as Chipps. Pretty pathetic.

The noise of the air conditioner kicking on in my hotel room is really annoying me right now. I'm enjoying the peace and quiet, and it's really disturbing.

I'm in Phoenix. It's still warm enough here to warrant having air conditioning in the first place.

I'm not riding enough and feeling like a complete sloth. I can't motivate myself to wake up early enough to run, and I'm too worn down at the end of these seminars to do anything after.

I have a big bolus of air trapped under my diaphragm. It feels like it's living on my sternum and making it hard to breathe. No amount of belching (quietly) seems to help. Maybe I have a tumor.

The tequila is really kicking in now, and the room is starting to spin. I'm going to watch some tv before passing out.

Love to you all! Still very much missing the UK, just trying not to drone on about it so much. It's sort of a broken record, n'est ce pas?

Saw sheep yesterday.