This weekend the Field and I are going to a bed and breakfast for the weekend. Seven years ago after spending a night making friends in a mildly friendly way with a girl from Yonkers I went back to my house at the Jersey Shore around 5:30 AM to find there were no rooms at the inn. So instead I slept on a bed in the abandoned house next door. The whole I night I feared that my snoring would alert the police that I was in there. It wasn't until the next morning that I went to use the bathroom and saw two other people from my house also sleeping there that I felt slightly safer.

The girl I saw one time a year and a half later and she treated me like I was her boyfriend coming home from war. By that time she was living on the Upper West Side and I was still in Hoboken, while we thought about exchanging numbers we both knew we could never handle the distance. There are days when the Upper West Side seems further than Miami.

By the way I need to start trying to create silly lists again... eventually if one were to read this too much they would think that my life has been 26 years of uninterested cute girls and four years of one slightly interested cute girl, which would be the saddest but most accurate obituary ever.