Speedy and I celebrated our first anniversary on Saturday by going to Cape May for the weekend. We stayed at a small bed-and-breakfast, of which there are like 100 in the town. It was nice.
We kicked off the weekend in classic style:
On Friday evening, we decided to go to dinner at a place about 1.5 miles from the B&B. It seemed like a lovely evening, nice and breezy and shady, and I thought it would be nice to walk there. Speedy didn't really agree, and wanted to take the beach cruiser bikes that the B&B keeps for guests. But he decided that if I really wanted to walk, we could walk. You won't be surprised to hear that he was right; walking was a bad idea.
It was indeed nice and breezy and shady - on the tree-lined street that the B&B is on. Turn off of that street, and it's 90 with a hot breeze and bright, hot, unrelenting sun. For the whole walk. I had tried to pack light, which I am not really very good at (what if I need that? and that? and that? I better just bring it all...) and I had only brought a pair of flip-flops and a pair of flats. And my bike shoes and running shoes. Since I determined that my flip-flops would not be supportive enough for the walk, I chose to wear my flats. This was an ill-advised decision. I've worn them before, but really only for walking to and from class, nothing like a 1.5-mile walk with sweaty feet.
By the time we stopped on a little drawbridge near the restaurant, my feet were on fire. I had gotten three blisters - one on each heel and one on the top of my left foot. I could barely walk by the time we got to the restaurant, and my light-gray cotton shirt was gross with sweat. Speedy was also sweaty, but had worn socks and comfortable shoes, and was wearing a t-shirt under his black polo shirt, so he was not as obviously gross as I was.
We were given a table in a dark corner of the restaurant, and given our collective grossness I think the hostess probably deserves a raise for her wise decision. Once seated, we each drank two tall iced teas like they were the best thing ever.
We called a cab for the way home.
Go us. We know how to party.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
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