I'm not even certain what that means, but ever since my parents and I hit a daily high of 13 miles on mom's pedometer, I think dad's been a bit disappointed that subsequent days have aimed lower (you know, a measly 8 miles instead).
(Did I mention that my parents are visiting? My parents are visiting.)
Today is the first day in a week that I've actually had time to just sit, and that'll end shortly: we have a 6am flight tomorrow to visit family in Norway. This is a trip I've been waiting for since at least sixth grade, when we had to write our first big reports--about a specific country--and I spent most of the day fretting that someone else would pick Norway first. Turns out everyone else was desirous over England instead, so I spent the next several weeks bawling my eyes out over notecards and fearing I'd get thrown in jail for unintentional plagiarism. And, nonetheless, fueling my desire to see Norway.
Anyway, I'm pretty certain I'll come back hung over on all that Norwegianness, lovesick and pathetic after finally seeing the place my family has been referring to my entire life. I'll probably just buy a bunad and stay.
But if I don't, I'll tell you all about it in a week or so.