Rafa's back in town.
I should probably mention he's been gone for the last week since he was in South Carolina visiting some of his friends from his army days.
Since I decided to sleep last night instead of heading out to pick him up from the airport with D, I turned today into a much needed "I love my brother" day.
D went to the pool with Twiggy, so it was just me and Rafa.
What did we do?
We massacred some sushi, obviously.
This went down at one thirty in the afternoon... and even after running around, and lifting a little earlier tonight, I'm still laying on my stomach, damning the moment I agreed to eat sushi. I only had four rolls (Rafa had six, and he's walking around like a champ. He even had BEANS an hour ago. How the FUCK do guys do that?!), NOTHING compared to my once 7.5 record... yet I'm over here swearing up and down that I'm on the verge of dying.
Anyway, this "I love my brother" day was great, tummy ache set aside.
The conversations I have with Rafa crack me up... and puts my shit back into perspective.
It's REALLY hard to be miserable when Rafa's walking around the house talking nonsense... or nearly choking on a mint as he sings along to "Extraterrestrial" while we drive by UNLV
(Rafa: Katy Perry, I'll inject you with my POISON... that's not really POI ::cough.cough.cough.choke.choke.choke::
Me: A little too excited there thinking about your "poison that's not really poison," Captain Obvious?).
Then, ending the day talking shit about Honduras' soccer team was the cherry topping to my day (actually, baking gluten/dairy free protein brownies was the cherry. It was choco-tastic... and the house smells SO fucking good! But the shit-talking came a close second).
I've said it once, and I'll say it again: EVERY GIRL NEEDS A BROTHER!
I should probably mention he's been gone for the last week since he was in South Carolina visiting some of his friends from his army days.
Since I decided to sleep last night instead of heading out to pick him up from the airport with D, I turned today into a much needed "I love my brother" day.
D went to the pool with Twiggy, so it was just me and Rafa.
What did we do?
We massacred some sushi, obviously.
This went down at one thirty in the afternoon... and even after running around, and lifting a little earlier tonight, I'm still laying on my stomach, damning the moment I agreed to eat sushi. I only had four rolls (Rafa had six, and he's walking around like a champ. He even had BEANS an hour ago. How the FUCK do guys do that?!), NOTHING compared to my once 7.5 record... yet I'm over here swearing up and down that I'm on the verge of dying.
Anyway, this "I love my brother" day was great, tummy ache set aside.
The conversations I have with Rafa crack me up... and puts my shit back into perspective.
It's REALLY hard to be miserable when Rafa's walking around the house talking nonsense... or nearly choking on a mint as he sings along to "Extraterrestrial" while we drive by UNLV
(Rafa: Katy Perry, I'll inject you with my POISON... that's not really POI ::cough.cough.cough.choke.choke.choke::
Me: A little too excited there thinking about your "poison that's not really poison," Captain Obvious?).
Then, ending the day talking shit about Honduras' soccer team was the cherry topping to my day (actually, baking gluten/dairy free protein brownies was the cherry. It was choco-tastic... and the house smells SO fucking good! But the shit-talking came a close second).
I've said it once, and I'll say it again: EVERY GIRL NEEDS A BROTHER!
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