i had a cold last week because i ran pretty hard in the city of angels half marathon without sleeping enough and then traveling in many aeroplanes. racing always knocks down my immune system. it’s just how it goes. i was nearly recovered on saturday but then didn’t rest enough on either weekend day and i lost my voice. poof gone. no more voice.

initially, i was pretty bummed and then i realized that i really like not talking. people who know me would probably be surprised because normally you can’t shut me up unless you hurt my feelings. turns out we were all wrong. so now, no talking.

coincidentally, i was looking for a silent-fasting-retreat-thing two weeks ago, only i couldn’t find one that wasn’t religious in any direction. or that doesn’t cost a billion dollars. i’m sorry what would i be paying for? hanging out with people and not talking to them and then not eating with them? i can hole up in my own house with a juicer for that.

anyway, for the immediate future, no more talking. and i’m sure that i’ll get used to mia calling me marcel marceau (rip) when i’m trying to communicate to her what i think we should eat for dinner.

we went surfing on the 4th of july. it ruled. surfing is more fun than i realized. “it’s kind of ridiculous how much fun this is,” i was thinking to myself the split second before my board somehow went careening into my thigh, giving me the worst charlie horse of my life, a lump that changed the topography of my leg for about four days, and a bruise that refuses to not be purple.

for a time i thought that i broke my femur. and then when i realized i hadn’t, i reckoned that if this is the pain that happens when i don’t break my femur, i don’t want to feel what actually breaking it feels like.

of course, the photo:

take that, collins.