The other day (two Thursdays ago, to be specific) my good buddy Johnathan and I went for a hike up in Cucamonga Canyon. As you may remember (assuming you all live in Southern California, and do not have amnesia) the week preceeding our adventure was quite dreary, but I woke up that morning with high hopes.
So I got up at 7-something on Thursday, got dressed, ate some breakfast, and waited for Johnathan to treck the mighty 200 feet or so to my front door.
I was supposed to write a story about the awesome adventure my buddy Johnathan and I had a couple weeks ago, but I'm a terrible person and only wrote like three sentences before quitting. Basically, we went up into Cucamonga Canyon for a nice hike, but the river was super deep and wide from all the excess rain, so we didn't get very far in, and we (re: Johnathan) spent a good portion of the day building a bridge across the water, with the eventual help of a couple young men filming a "documentary" and a friendly asian family.
Had I actually written the story, it probably would've had some nice imagery, and at least seven synonyms for "majestic"; so maybe it's a good thing it never really happened. On the down side, I have probably lost any credibility I had, which is a pretty terrible thing to lose if you think about it (I suppose that's why I included the chunk at the beginning, to show that my intentions were good, I just wasn't very interested). So Johnathan, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. But (to rebuild my credibility) I'll write you a story about a unicorn. Well, I can't guarantee it will be about a unicorn, but there will at least be a unicorn in it.
Love Chloe :)