So I think it�s high time I gave this new guy of mine a name, and that name shall be Ulrich. Because it pleases me. He pleases me, too, in fact, which is very nice. And despite the fact that I nearly choked to death on sushi Saturday afternoon, and then tried to solve the problem by taking smaller bites, only to discover that complicated rolls of rice and fish are resistant to the notion and thusly collapse when their structural integrity is compromised in such a way, causing me to become festooned in seaweed and tuna before being forced to shove the whole thing gracelessly into my gaping maw, efficiently squashing any aura of sophistication I might at one time have possessed, he still seems to like me.
We went hiking Saturday morning, which was a lot of fun and also a lot smarter than going hiking in, say, the afternoon, since the average high temperature of the last week has been around a thousand degrees. I still sweated my way up and down the canyon in a way that I cannot imagine was sexy in the least, and I have to wonder why I put myself in date situations that highlight all of my most awkward tendencies. Anyway, that didn�t put him off either, and I almost got a little mouth-to-mouth action when I slipped on the way back down and just about luged on my ass through a ravine to an almost certainly unconscious future in the hospital. I�ll do anything for a kiss, though � I�m so shameless.
I haven�t been hiking in a while, either, so it was nice in that regard as well. The last time I went hiking hiking was when I visited my friend Scary Religious Girl at her University in the southwest over spring break my junior year in college. That was an interesting weekend. I knew by the end of the first night that the week was going to end in bloodshed � I mean, I�d only agreed to come out and visit in the first place because she tricked me. She said I should come out, and I said I�d have loved to, but � so sad! � I couldn�t afford the plane fare. But I�d rilly, rilly have loved to do it otherwise, you know? So she goes, �Oh, no problem, I can loan you the money!� So I�m all, �Er�I can�t accept that! I couldn�t pay you back!� And she�s all, �It�s fine! I�m buying your ticket right now!�
And that�s how I ended up out there. And we would sit on the floor of her apartment and she�d go, �What do you want to do?� and I�d go, �Well, what IS there to do?� and she�d go, �We could rent a movie!� and I�d say, �I can rent a movie at home � what is there to do out here?� and she would reply, �Well�we could go bowling!� Sigh. Finally, I suggested we climb a mountain, thinking that if things didn�t improve, I could always just push her off it: �Hey, have a look at this view! Wow! Yeah, that�s it � lean way, way over to see how high up we are�closer to edge of the precipice. Closer. No, lean waaaaay over or you won�t get the full effect�yes, just like that�oops!�
The first part of this hike was rather uneventful, save for the part where I stepped in a mud hole and pulled my foot out with so much gunk stuck to it that it weighed about eighteen pounds. I didn�t really have any problems with slipping or falling, though, which was impressive, and also a personal record. What I did have problems with were the twin facts that a) the �trail� wasn�t exactly marked, and b) Scary Religious Girl didn�t exactly know where we were going. I learned this as we were wending our way over rocks and shrubbery about a quarter of the way in. I did not, at the time, point out that it was dusk on a mountainside with no electricity, so getting lost was probably not the wisest move to make at that juncture. Would that I had.
Sure enough, within minutes she was grinding her heels into my last nerve, and then the sun went down and we were stranded in darkness, trying to navigate our way back by the stars, like Magellan. Unlike with Magellan, however, there were no hostile indigenous peoples around to kill her for me, and I had to suffer her constant sermonizing and maddening habit of repeating back to me things I SAID TWO MINUTES BEFORE like she was educating me about something she�d learned somewhere that she�d only just remembered. The worst part of that attractive little quality was the way she would report these things to me in this tone of voice like I was a special needs child who would clearly not know this, and also might have trouble with the concept. Eventually, we did get down from the mountain, though. I flew home the next day, and didn�t speak to her for three months.
When Ulrich and I finished our hike, we made out a lot. All in all, a much better experience.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: 13th century woodcarving I�m Watching: High Sierra -- Humphrey Bogart at his best. I�m Listening To: The Forgotten Arm by Aimee Mann, which is fantastic, as usual.