the perfect kind of day.

I was running by myself this morning.

You know, in the mountains.

And I passed that sign again–the one about the mountain lions that hunt in the area. Okay, so it didn’t say hunt, but that was the point. And then I read that you shouldn’t hike alone and I thought, Ohhhhh shoot. Cause I was totally alone.

And then I abruptly turned around and headed back to my family’s house. Where there aren’t mountain lions and where I am not alone. But I didn’t get there before every little squirrel that happened by scared me, cause I was sure that it was something not nearly so innocuous.

I usually pride myself on not feeling very afraid of nature, but it seems you hear enough about the folk singer getting eaten by coyotes in Canada and the little twin babies getting mauled by a fox in Britain and the lady getting struck by lightening and killed in North Carolina, and suddenly my imagination goes a little wild when I’m by myself and outside.

Not head dance wild, but wild, nonetheless.

Anyway.

Today was the kind of day that is gonna make me sleep and sleep right well tonight.

We went to the beach and the weather! oh, it was divine. The sun was not shy at all and there was a slight breeze and enough warm sand to keep you from being cold. Especially when a small boy accidentally dumps a whole shovel-full of sand right on your head. Just like you are simply the beach and a little bit more sand moved around when there’s already tons there is no big deal. But instead you are a person and now your scalp is covered in enough sand to make you wonder if you should perhaps suggest that some people park their umbrella right here, right on your noggin, should the beach get too crowded.

But really, it was just funny. And gave me even more incentive to get in that water. Which I did, along with my boogie-boarding peers, Jase and Lyric.

And man, was it fun.

And man, does a wetsuit really make a difference in terms of actually being able to stay and enjoy the ocean cause look! my teeth aren’t chattering and oh! I can feel my legs and haven’t yet lost a toe from frostbite.

We caught some glorious waves and were not caught by any glorious sharks, so win win.

For us, though. Probably not the sharks.

And then we went riding around on bikes, which was, in plain old English, a blast.

Except for the part when a lot of people around here see the words BIKE PATH and, though they have no bike at all, proceed to stroll on it. Luckily Jenna was with us and she has no problem at all with reminding them of the meaning of those two words; that there’s a lot of beach all around that is perfectly useful for walking on, whereas bikes really cannot ride on the sand, so please–MOVE.

But really, it was lovely.

And you’re probably thinking, whoa! that sounds like an amazing day. The only thing that could make it any better is a monkey…

And you’re right.

Which is why, upon my brother’s urging (and funding, I may add), I decided to shake a monkey’s hand on the Santa Monica Promenade. Again. I had already done this magical thing once before, but when it comes to shaking this monkey’s hand–once is never enough.

Trust me.

But don’t take my word for it–take a look for yourself.

monkey!

*and please pay no mind to the fact that I am dressed like a wannabe ninja, thankyouverymuch.

**and please DO pay mind to the fact that the monkey tips his hat after he shakes my hand. Adorable.