A redneck cashier in a fabric store correctly used the words cantankerous and minutia in a conversation with me that lasted less than two minutes. That is awesome.
Monday night Katie and I really wanted ice cream but the grocery store was closed. I stopped by a quasi-sketchy BP station and found they had three kinds of Ben and Jerrys. I picked up two pints and placed them on the counter. The cashier rang up the first then looked at me and muttered, "rich lady." I don't know either.
Ani Difranco is playing at the Orange Peel in March. Anyone? She's always good...
Friday night I met Cara and Margarita at Zambras for tappas, dessert and Spanish wine. A chill girls night out was necessary. Then Margarita and I stopped by the shop and drank moonshine with Adam and Brad while we talked about travel, pranks and whistles. Quite the jump in conversations and environments.
Women talk to themselves. A lot.
This is what my high school principal looked like. Seriously.
Now that I have my Sundays back I'm relearning them. I'm rusty at Sundays.
In a world so full of gadgets and high tech stuff, I love how much bright sunshine still has the ability to change things. So simple and yet so powerful.
For some strange reason, strangers feel the need to ask me what size I wear and then scoff, mock or make a snide comment when I answer them. I've actually had people become offended. Recently I've actually thought about lying and saying I'm bigger than I am. I don't understand this. I am the way I am, leave me be.
Yesterday my IT guy was wrapped in syran wrap by my coworker and they were giggling like little girls. Thank you for that.
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