You about ready for cutest thing you’ve read all day?
My friend Suzanne and I (that I’ve known since the fifth grade) pick a movie on Friday nights and then both download it. She lives in Dallas, I’m in Chicago. We watch it and send texts to each other throughout the film. I will complete your next thought – yes, right after the movie I go and shave my vagina.
My girlfriend bought me a blue therapy light for Christmas.
I did a bunch of research on blue lights to see if they do, in fact, help to alleviate depression. Now, I don’t actually have depression. Well, not in the clinical sense. Sure I cry each morning when I awake, but that’s because the weight of the world is squarely resting on my shoulders! You know, normal thoughts. The blue light was appealing as it could help me to feel better and isn’t a destructive high.
For the second time in about six months, I got pulled over.
I was driving to a doctor’s appointment this evening and talking to the friend I wrote about the other day where I offered to eat her kidney stone. I live in Chicago and it’s impossible to speed. I’m even one of those nerds that does a complete stop at stop signs. I’m not all law-abidin’, though. I turn on red all the time even when there isn’t a turn arrow in the left lane or if there’s a “no turn on red” sign in the right lane. I’m an outlaw when it comes to turning. But, this time I know I was just driving along at 27 mph through downtown Evanston.
This happens every year.
I ride the subway to and from work during the winter months. Lately I’ve noticed that I’m one of the older people. It’s mostly kids in their twenties. At thirty-six I don’t feel too old to take the train. In NYC you have people in walkers dropping dead on the D line. But here in Chicago the “L” (short for “elevated train”) is a young man’s game. Even the pretty women look too young. They’re twenty-five but look like children. I’m getting older.
I came down to Peoria this past Friday with my mom – see, she just bought a new car, and in an incredible act of generosity, is giving me her old car. So, we had to go to the DMV, do one of the title transfer things, order license plates, you know, car stuff.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
