|This photo has nothing to do with anything. I just love Pam Grier.|
. . . hoody sweatshirts - so ridiculous - I keep one in every room of the house to pull on because I vacillate from heat-from-within hot to brrrrrr chilly.
. . . my coffee from Mexico - where is it? Wah . . .
. . . salad bar at Ruby Tuesdays - don't even start with me about this, heh!
. . . how much fun I had at book club Tuesday night - met another new friend. She and I clicked and I can't wait to be at another book club night.
. . . that I am finally settling down from vacation. WTH is that about? It's taking almost longer than the damn vacation to get back to normal. Could it be I have no normal and that's the problem? hehehe
. . . toenails painted red - I am boring as hell about this one. I see all the green, blue, and gray toenails out there. Mine are red. They really make me happy.
. . . the Zelda Fitzgerald bio I'm reading. She should have lived in this time. Then her light wouldn't have been hidden under an insecure husband.
. . . being a bit tan. I have a hard time keeping my vitamin D levels good so I am supposed to get sun. It feels decadent and wrong. But my legs are looking good!
. . . being ogled. I know that's wrong. Yesterday a man at the Turnstyle nearly had his head down my shirt he was trying so hard to get a better view. He could nearly see my shoes from the top of my boobs. I so wanted to say, "Hey, you better watch out. Many men have fallen in there and were never seen again." but I figured that would be wrong as well. There are too many rules to follow people!
. . . twisting my hair - again, this is just wrong, but it gives me huge pleasure and helps me think. It does!
. . . the quote below - this describes me completely.
A couple of years ago my sister Judy and I were each given a box of truffles. The tiny print said two pieces contained 310 calories and there were six pieces in each box. We were sitting on the bus headed downtown, quietly doing our calculations: Judy was dividing by two and I was multiplying by three. When she realized what I was doing, a look came over her face that is hard to describe. "I lost all hope for you" she says now.
~Abigail Thomas, Thinking About Memoir