I saw him in profile from about a half block away, and I was in looooove. Over 6' tall, with a thick thatch of salt-and-pepper hair and a strong nose. He reminds me a little of my friend Kathleen's husband, only much better looking. And must better dressed. No way Martin would ever spend that much on a suit!
I was able to get a closer view as we waited for the light to change. His skin looked really nice but he's not perfect -- his eyes are a little too close set. Such imperfections can be very endearing.
Kathy was wrong about me.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Trifecta
This week's challenge: Check out the third definition of clean (below), and use the word exactly as it appears, in no less than 33 and no more than 333 words.
3 a : free from moral corruption or sinister connections of any kind
3 a : free from moral corruption or sinister connections of any kind
Greetings from Illinois
He’s nothing special to look at: Balding and overweight,
with a complexion that bounces between sickly winter pallor and an unnatural red
summer hue. His suits never seem to fit right, and no matter what tie he chooses, it looks like it's strangling him. His oratory doesn’t get one’s pulse racing. Even with his
very unpopular tax increase, the State is still operating with a deficit of at
least $5 billion (some say it’s closer to $10 billion).
Yet I am happy Pat Quinn is my Governor. Because he is
clean.
After George “Now Serving 7” Ryan and Rod “Welcome to
Englewood Federal Correctional Institution” Blagojevich, that is refreshing.
The saddest thing about this post is that, when I saw the
prompt, this is the only response that came to mind. Remember, our license
plates proclaim us as, “Land of Lincoln.” If only our governors lived up to that.