As compared to the next Midwestern-raised corporate attorney, aka the land of no topography and zero trees, I like to consider myself as relatively “outdoorsy.” I mean, in a past life, I frequently car-camped and schlepped through rural Kentucky (redundant?) in order to destroy my hands and body on some incredible sandstone. Pre-law Clee was a much cooler cat than lawyer Clee can ever hope to be. *Sigh*
“Fly a plane to a guy to ask him out and fall in love and get his name tattooed on you.”
Spend even a nominal amount of time with me, and you’re sure to get an earful about the anxiety stemming from the fact that I am just a hair over eight months from turning 30. Sorry. Not sorry. But somewhat sorry. Not sure where my twenties went, quite frankly…my brain is still stuck somewhere between the ages of 26 and 28.