Last night we had the best burritos in San Francisco from a hole in the wall called Los Metates. I was going to blog all about how fabulous they were- I even took several photos of my plate adorned with various shades of salsa. But then I had Jon take a picture of me holding my burrito giving the universal thumbs up of approval and as I reviewed the photos I realized that that was perhaps the most unflattering set of circumstances in which to take a photo of oneself.
So unflattering that In fact... I was forced to consider (dun, dun, DUN) exercising.
So I says to Jon:
"What would you say about putting tennis on hold for the next two weeks and jogging the lake instead?"
And without missing a beat he looked me dead in the face and said:
"Fuck that and you for even saying it"
And that is why I love him.
