A few days ago, I mentioned that I had a bunny in college. My friend Dottie was kind enough to email me a photo of that lovely time of my life.
Let's talk.
First off, how did I not puncture poor waving Roxanne with those nails? What was going on, there? Did I have a part-time job unscrewing things with those nails? Was I digging grout out of something?
And I KNOW I thought I was cute with that hair. I thought I was the shizz.
Also too, a few years ago I just strolled right into my old dorm. No one suspected the part where I am a total freshman-loving perv and I was not stopped. I walked right up to 273, my old room, and two girls were in there with the door open, and their small TV was in exactly the same place Liz and I had our TV in 1984. Killed me.
Neither of them had my hairdo, though.
While I'm on the subject of Dottie, which I vaguely was, the kitten she found is still in need of a nice home. Dot lives in Michigan.
"i sweet. i good wif Dot's other catz. i not mind her heeug dog. i weigh four. mostly i fur. wish you could hear ant joone's squeekee kitty voice she has in her hed while she write this."
So that's that.
Finally, I wanted to let you know I drove all the way to Raleigh yesterday to buy a latte. As you do.
There's a Norman Rockwell exhibit in Raleigh, and I am sorry I like Normal Rockwell. I know this makes me vanilla, and middle-of-the-road, and uncool and I am supposed to be road tripping to see Kandinsky or something, but Norman Rockwell makes me happy.
Marvin had his usual Sunday band ridiculous practice, and sometimes I'd like to email the other wives to see if it irks the CRAP out of them that their husbands take off in the middle of EVERY Sunday for band practice. So the point is I went alone.
I go to Norman Rockwell alone. Yeah-ah with nobody else. You know when I go to Norman alone, I prefer to be by myself.
You can take me out of Michigan...
So on the way, I notice there was a Captain D's at one of the exits. Oh, I love me some Captain D's. It is kind of like Long John Silver, with the fried fish and the friend hush puppies and the fried fried bits at the bottom of your tray. Oh!
Naturally, I made a detour, because fish is brain food.
"Y'all want vinegar with that?" they asked me at the drive-thru. Of COURSE I want vinegar with that. The fried fried bits at the bottom are DELISH with vinegar on them.
Can you guess what happened? CAN YOU GUESS? Who spilled vinegar all over herself, then forgot there was a packet of spilled vinegar all over again so she dipped her coat AND PHONE in the vinegar 10 minutes later, and I just kept thinking when I got to the museum people would have thought I'd stopped off at the Festival of Douches or something.
"My, that woman must have quit her job getting grout out and gone on to professionally dye Easter eggs."
The point is, the museum was packed. PACKED. And you could not find parking and I have to go to Raleigh later this week again for my hair appointment (Ima bring in that Roxanne photo and ask her to revamp that hair look. What say you?), so I bagged the whole plan. I will go during the week. I stopped off and got a latte and drove back home.
At least I was fresh as a spring breeze. A spring malty breeze.
Okay, I'm off. Today Ima clean the house with my Martha Stewart how-to-clean-your-house book, so by the time Marvin gets home I should be completely bitchy. It's a good thing.
