Ahhh, Monday. You cruel thing.

Hello to computing, hello to engineering. Goodbye to playing in the park and Back to the Future Marathons. Heartbreaking, ain’t it?

Ahhh, Internets, so much to write, so little time to do it.

Like how transcendence was achieved again Friday night at the Honfleur Gallery in the Anacostia Neighborhood in DC as the Bellevederes played a much better set than our previous outing. We were there for a gallery opening of some pretty gay photography. I am not being dismissive here. They were photos of young gay hipsters in odd poses, like bobbing for apples in whitie-tighties. The upside of this – gays like music that is fun to dance to. Again, not being dismissive, that just seemed to be my experience Friday night. I need more gay friends.

And like, since the Brucester was alone for about 10 hours on Friday, I vowed to make it up to him for the remainder of the weekend. I also vowed that this Saturday began my quest for fitness by September 20th – the day we leave for Mexico. This means running five times a week. No Bullshit. That is the only thing that works for me; hard-core, dedicated running. So on Saturday, I took Bruce to the shady, soft rail-trail at Robert E. Lee Park, and ran to the reservoir and back, with stops at the creek for some swimming, splashing and fetching to keep the dog cool, happy, and tired. It is a perfect trail for the dog and for me – I can take him off-leash, it is shady, soft railbed is perfect for my knees, and he has multiple locations he can jump in the Jones Falls and cool off.

Yesterday, though, Bruce was like to die and go to dog heaven, as we took him up to Loch Raven Reservoir to run the stretch of roadway the county closes every Sunday to vehicular traffic. We ran a bit, and as soon as he saw the lake to his right, he detoured down and charged right in. We threw sticks out for fetching for a while and then continued our run. Further along, we saw a large flock of geese along a stretch of beach and on a little island about a hundred yards off shore. After asking the folks near that area if they would be upset if the dog scared off the birds (please do, was their answer), I gave Bruce the word and let him go to town.

It was amazing. I wish I had a camera. Instinct took over and he splashed around for a while – he was actually “tolling”! Then he charged out toward the island, swimming right into the flock, chasing them around. All I could think was we had already been running for an hour, and he had to be exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was wade out into goose poop-infested waters in my tennis shoes if he got too tired to swim back. He was way offshore and loving every minute of it and was not about to be too tired to continue! But being his true obedient self, as soon as we started calling him he turned around and started swimming back to us. I have never seen a happier dog. His tail would not stop wagging. He does smell a bit like a sea urchin now, though.

I told Ryan that I am taking the dog there every Sunday from now on. Or at least until football season begins. Next time I will take a camera.