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I ran, I biked, I jumped waves, I ate well, I scrabbled poorly, and I saw Sylvia. Days could be worse, I'm sure. Like, what if while I was running, sweating as I do and I heard, "Pssst. Pssst. You, come here," from one of the high hedges people keep in these parts. What if it turned out to be Sara Jessica Parker and she saw me running and wanted to report how miserable she was with Mathew Broderick. Now, that would of been a bad day. The way I sweat. How embarrassing.
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