Day Forty-Nine: Miranda

Demeanor -- Chardonnay-like: extremely white; an acquired taste, but rewarding
Feelings about the Olive Garden -- "It's strange that you'd ask me that, given that we are best friends and have been for thirteen years (and counting). Anyway, it's pretty good."
Response to my threat to quote the ridiculous things she said in her blog entry -- "Don't count my quotes before they're hatched. From my brain."
Snapshot --

On our walk to the OG, we passed a peaceful creek where some ducks were happily nibbling on the fresh algae. I reflected on the beauty and tranquility of nature even here, in the midst of the world's brightest and noisiest city. As I was about to share these feelings, Miranda, completely unprovoked, screamed gibberish at the ducks and they flew away.

She looked at me smugly. "Yeh. I scared those birds what good."

--

True to her bizarrely-phrased response to my contractually obligated question, Miranda is, indeed, my best friend of thirteen years (and counting). She flew all the way from Austin, Texas, our hometown, to be the final date for my blog! She's funny and complicated and is responsible for my being the man I am today more than any single person I could name, save for my immediate family. Thanks for dining with me, bro - I love you very much.

No homo.

0 more dates to go. I'm...I'm free...

Today's pasta was
The End