Shenanigans

So I'm listening to our Wagon song right now getting all sentimental so I thought I'd finally figure this blog thang out...and write down a few things about crooh that I've missed.
1) Wearing spandex (it's hard pulling off cheetah spots by yourself)
2) Saying all of our youtube pick up lines (like "so beautiful and cute" and "ouch charleyyy") and not having anyone to finish them
3) Listening to "Wake up in the morning..." and T-Swift and raving in the car on the way to the lake
4) Witnessing the sunrise as Mt. Ranier peeks his head through the clouds that look just like cotton candy
5) Sitting in my cox box yelling stuff like "Lean out bitches to your damn riggers to fix the bloody set or help me gawdddd I'll steer us into a buoy."

On that last note, I've been working on being more ferocious. I've tried pulling out my coxswain voice in my bedroom just once and had my brother cautiously peek his head in wondering if I was all right. I assured him I've never been better. So ferocious I even scared myself. SQUEEEEEZE. And that's coming from the girl who just choked up watching Toy Story 3. Yup...in 3D. It was baller.

"So rock me mama like a wagon wheel. Heyyyyyy mama rock me." (interlude)

Anywhoo, bout my summer. I just got back from a 14 hour road trip visiting Ashland, Oregon and the Shakespeare Festival. It was epic. We watched Twelth Night and Pride and Prejudice (even though that's not very Shakespearean ahaha) and toured the antiquey touristy town and felt cute in my skirt. Lemme just say that I'm soo glad men don't wear tight knickerbockers anymore. It's like an open invitation saying "hey look here." You all know where "here" is...it rhymes with "stick." Soooo unattractive.

Another thing I'd like to mention is that making money is a biatttch. But at least I have a job. I work at this billing department where I type numbers into a computer for 8 and a half hours a day. It's grueling. And all the ladies there look like pears. So I come home everyday inspired to work out.
Yesss...on that note: I'm gonna do a triathalon with my momma this summer and hope to join Sir Kenzington for the one in Seattle end of August. I've been bike riding till my pubic bone and ass joined forces and rebelled and I couldn't sit on the pot for at least 9 days without grimacing. Ok maybe a leetle too much info. You all could pray to the heavens that I'll be able to make it through the swimming part. Honestly, all I know is the chicken-airplane-rocket and I have no clue how in hell I'm supposed to master the front stroke and breathe without having a stroke for lack of suitable oxygen.

Well, I should probably wrap things up cuz I don't want to steal the long winded award from Jovia. So I hope you're all doing dandy and I miss each of you something fierce.
"Rock me mama anyway you feel...like a southbound train. Heyyy mama rock me."
Rooh infinity and beyond,
Annika