Swimsuits, anxiety and blue trucks: a blog of this and that

Swimwsuits. I leave for my cruise in less than a month! In preparation for this, I am now the apprehensively proud owner of a Land's End tankini. The top, ehhn, well, it's okay, but it's the skirt that I'm crazy about. It's like a little trendy cheerleading/tennis skirt, and I kind of want to wear it everywhere I go, even to work. It's probably a blessing that my legs are as pale as they are; if they were browner, the temptation to wear my swimsuit skirt all over Nashville would be pretty tough to resist.

Anxiety. Well, as much as I love my swimsuit, I'm not sure how much I love seeing it on my body. I'm kind of nervous about other people seeing it on my body. Let's face it, I'm not a high school cheerleader anymore.

I know that the important thing is that I'm going to Mexico on a gigantic boat. I'm going to see Mayan ruins overlooking the Caribbean. I'm going to have a break from work drama. I'm going to see lots and lots of water. That's what I need to focus on. Compared to all that water, my thighs look pretty small!

Blue Trucks. Ok, this is weird. There's a guy in my apartment complex who drives a blue truck. He's cute, although I think he might be fresh out of college. The weird thing about this story? Well, we always leave at the same time every morning. Whether it's a work day or a church day, we seem to always get in our cars at the same time. Often, our cars (well, my car, his blue truck) are parked beside each other. Even weirder, our work places and churches are just blocks apart. I've followed this guy to church and work (not purposely; I'm not the stalking type). We always kind of look at each other every morning, make eye contact, get in our vehicles and follow each other to wherever we're headed that particular day. I call him Blue Truck Boy (creative, right?), and I think we might be destined for friendship. If I were a braver person, I'd say hey, and assure him that I am, in fact, not stalking him. It is only coincidence that I follow him everywhere he goes. I think this is all very funny and cute. It makes me happy to see him get in his car as I get in mine. It's like he's my little driving friend. Maybe one day we'll actually, gasp, speak, and I'll learn his name and no longer need to refer to him as Blue Truck Boy.

One final thought for this random blog: is there anything better than being a redhead?