TGIF.

There are some things you say you'll never do, and you don't (own/like a cat, "movie" kiss another girl, root for the Patriots, pre-set a country station into your car radio). And then there are some things you say you'll never do, but you do (date a democrat, cut bangs, move back to Indiana, wear an article of clothing with Miley Cyrus's name on the label). There are also things you say you'll do, and you do (study abroad, go to a U2 concert, run (trot) 13.1 miles, learn to bake). And there are things you say you'll do, but you never get around to doing (become fluent in Spanish, read the entire Bible, go to happy hour at that little place a block away from the apartment, learn to cook).

Thinking about this a little lately as I prep to leave D. I hate reverting to the cliche "bucket list," but is there any other way to make sure I get around to some of the uniquely Texas and/or Dallas things I've been putting off for almost two years?

Heading to the lake tonight for a weekend of R&R with my lady friends. On the agenda: eating, reading "Water for Elephants" for BOTH myself and Amy so that I can tell her if they mess up the movie, and maybe wake boarding. If I can find the courage to throw on a bikini.

Speaking of courage, a million hugs to Carrie today. She's a favorite, one of my most, and while I always love her, I especially love her on days like today when she is the only self-confidence I possess. I'm thankful for the 64 electronic mails we exchange each day, as well as the 10,826 texts that cross the airwaves from Indy to D. Sorry bouts all those radioactive waves that are gonna eventually kill everyone. Girlz gotz 2 talk.

Another shout out to Louise (pronounced Loo-eez) for the MK flats. Your guilt is my gain. And y'all know I love anything that combines three metallics into one beautiful piece of bling. Well, two. One for each foot. Regardless, I feel like a king, and you can, too, whilst you oogle them(also note the Miley Cyrus black jeans and rest assured that I am embarrassed for myself).

P.S. Am I allowed to say that I'm over this royal wedding business? Oh, but I am.

Confession.

I want to try SKETCHER Shape-Ups.

Aurora Borealis.

I saw the Northern Lights once, on a late-night drive from Canada back to our lake house in Michigan. Watch this video, taken when an Air France flier found himself with a whole row to himself on a San Francisco-Charles De Gaulle flight. He set up his camera and a tripod and shot a time-lapse of the entire flight out the window. As the place passed over the Arctic, he caught the Aurora Borealis. Promise it's worth your time.

SF to Paris in Two Minutes from Beep Show on Vimeo.

I will not marry an American.

It's just a fact.

Let's look at the great loves of my life:

Australian.

Irish.

English.

Scottish.

English.

Cuban.

But who is my absolute favorite, you might ask? Who do I love the very, very most?

You might be thinking of the very English Darcy.

But no, not Darcy, despite his ability to make my heart physically hurt every time I watch P&P.

Federer, you think. Surely it must be the great Swiss tennis champ.

Also a fine guess. And I just might actually love him. But still not my absolute favorite.

My heart belongs to this guy.

See that coming?

Ponies.

No, not this kind:

(Although I have impeccable form.) This kind:

It's a well-known obsession of mine. I love them. Not the long, "thought-out" ponytail, more of the "afterthought" ponytail. The kind that's not necessary, just a convenience. Question my sanity away, friends. Analyze it as much as you'd like. I can't explain it. It is what it is.

My favorite ponytailed man? My long-haired baby brother.

And the ladies love him.