Living with the gf

Yes, I now live with my girlfriend. Isn't it grand?

During the blitzkrieg of snow storms that struck Maryland (and the rest of the Northeast) in the weeks before I left for the USVI, we chose to get snowed in together for good practice. Since we didn't kill each other and because she cooked many delicious meals for me, we decided moving in together on the island would not be a huge difference.

There have been a few very minor struggles -- "What my baby wants, my baby gets" -- but all in all, it has been a pleasure and I look forward to the great things we will discover, accomplish and embrace together.

Enough of the sappy stuff. Time to start making fun of her.

Before I left for the office today, she asked that I not place my shoes under the bed because it makes it harder to clean. I naturally complied and started to place all FOUR (yes, that's right -- four) pieces of apparel for my feet in the closet. I know packing for this relocation had to be light so I currently have two pairs of sandals, one pair of running shoes and a pair of brown work shoes at my disposal.

That made me wonder: how many pairs of shoes did she bring?

It took me some time because I didn't have a calculator handy but according to my data, I learned that she had TWENTY-TWO (22) pairs of shoes.

"You should see how many shoes I left at home," she says.

On an island where I'd prefer to go barefoot most of the time, the shoe scoreboard reads:

Brianna 22, Aaron 4

I've covered USVI high school basketball games with closer results. And that says a lot.