Counting down.

My college reunion is this weekend. I can tell you with all seriousness that I never really planned on going. All the people I wanted to sleep with who I didn't already sleep with are married. Besides, what am I going to tell them? I don't think I should reuse the High School reunion trick again. I could be straightforward and honest about my life, but there's really nothing too spicy about it right now.

But in two days, I want to get married. Something tells me that I should have already bought myself and my bride to be plane tickets already. I might have missed the boat on that one.

In four months, I'll have another birthday. This one's going to be entertaining- and largely based on Rolling Rock beer (not to drink, mind you, but relying on numbers is important).

In 4 weeks my friend D and his fiancee are getting married. They're doing the whole church wedding thing, which is about the last thing I expected him to ever do. He's an atheist like me, except maybe a touch saner. Note to self- find a date for that one.

In 6 weeks I will be in Boston, for a wedding reception. I have a date lined up, and she's pretty excited about going. I'm going to get us some Red Sox tickets for the night before. Should be a hoot. Should be a hoot and a half. Here I thought it'd be years before I would get back there. Turns out I was wrong.

I can't complain about being wrong about that.

In three weeks, I will be doing the MS Ride on a knee that didn't even want to finish the mileage I had planned for yesterday. To the tune of me saying to my friend "I need to stop now," literally throwing my bike to the ground and then punching said ground, because I was in too much pain.

This is very much not a good sign.

Somehow, Old Yeller (as we're calling the knee these days) needs to get through the next 3 weeks without dislocating or worse, and yesterday was a testament that I might be skating on very, very thin ice. It goes without saying that before I do the 2007 ride, I'll be revisiting the surgeon's office and getting fixed up. As it turns out, one of my teammates is friends-of-friends with my sports medicine doctor, the woman who said to me almost three years ago that she was considering knee replacement as one of my options. My argument was that I was only 30, and was perhaps too young for that. Her argument was that I would probably be much better off getting it done now, while I was younger and healthier, rather than wait until I was older. Fortunately for me, the surgeon sided with me, and I had the same surgery I had twice when I was 19. It's supposed to last 7-10 years, and I don't have to tell you that it's been a lot longer than that.

Right now, I'm counting down til lunchtime. My cat has been pestering me to eat so she can beg for food from me for a while. She's cute when she does that. Really, really cute.