Up for Air

*gulp!*

Whalp, the death march continues but the extension of the date means that we won't be marching as long on a miles forced-marched-per-day basis. Hopefully I'll get a full (technical!) post this weekend. Barring the parental invasion.

However for my female readership (shut up Capa), I just want to get something off my chest about ... chests.

I'm six-foot-two. If you are standing in front of me, facing me and wearing something with a scoop or low neckline, I'm looking at your face. Especially if you're five-six or shorter, I can't help but look at your cleavage. Whaddaya want me to do? I can look you straight in the eye and whoomp, dere it is. Or rather, they are. Right in my field of vision. If you look up at the branches of a tree you can't help but see sky.

So don't get defensive, creeped out or otherwise. I am a gentleman who, post-surgery, has 20/15 vision in both eyes. Trust me, it's an effort of will on my part to still be a gentleman in that situation and not look at your cleavage.

Sheesh.