The Stars and the Cookie Jar

Yeah, 5:30-2:30.

Groan of intense groanness.

With Cub Scouts and middle-school cheerleaders --did you know they made those? -- and such a crowd and crush of the little footballian darlings, I stood at the bar and shouted If you do not say 'please' and 'thank you' to the gentleman at the register, you will not get your hot chocolate! Now, if you want a hot chocolate, talk to me! LOUDLY! ... Mmmm. Power. Not a parent in sight (of course) so I got away with it. And the outburst only came after the ninth gallon of milk, when a teenyboppah with a wicked bad case of glittah eye shadow peered over the bar and whined, "Where's mine?"

Selk: "I'm sorry?"

"I ordered a drink like ten minutes ago [two minutes, kthx] and all my friends already have theirs and we all came in the same time."

"Hm. What did you order, sorry?"

"A tall hot chawcolate!"

Selk: *points to vast and glittering array of tall cups with chocolate syrup and vanilla syrup in them, waiting for hot milk* "Be just a second."

The teenyboppah, who had used both hands to lever herself over the bar-edge, lets go, shaking the bar. All the cups, all the vanilla, all the chocolate syrup, rattled, and two fell down. Forward. Onto the line of drinks I was building.

Yeah, she was last.

[Russ, Allison, and Marla, y'all are so great. /Team Moment]

Okay. To hell with the work anecdotes. I get to depart to see darthrami  tomorrow night. This is good, cos I am useless and ungainly when not in her presence, feels like. You pay the grocer, fix the toaster, kiss the host goodbye; then you break the window, burn the souffle, scream the lullabye...  I whine exponentially more than usual, I make slipshod left turns onto  major roads, and I sleep not so well.*

*one of these things happens daily anyway. This is why she drives the car and I sit in the passenger's seat.

Oh, and dude, I sliced my thumb again.

This Establishment Has Gone 0 Days Without An On-The-Job Accident

I suck. 

But darthrami , 7AM Wednesday.

I am the luckiest woman I know.

1. Find coat
2. Forget cell phone charger
3. Remember birthday present
4. Debate taking laptop on such a short sojourn, decide yes
5. Match up socks
6. Remember cell phone charger, attempt to fit it in bag
7. Find the only Fleet ATM in Rhode Island, withdraw tiny trip emergency fund
8. E-mail Brandeis advisor. "Hi, remember me? You saved my life so many times. Now I'm happy and published. What can I do to pay forward all you did for me? Love, Selk."
9. Shriek at foster brother for ganking, damaging/losing/trading portable CD player in case there are no laptop outlets
10. Go to work

 

*grooves around the farmhouse with the cat*

*in pink and white halfsocks*

*well, the cat's not*

 

Some things we have learnt this evening:

My mommy kicks your carton-packing ass. However, the items you want are always in the bottom-most, tapiest carton.

I fit into those jeans. You know, the ones that formerly defied the white, fleshy expanse of your calves, even, and never reached the broad frontier of your waist? Those. O pity, pity the idea of wearing them overnight on a train doesn't thrill me.

I'm a size 20 again on the bottom. See above. I know it's not miles of difference between a 24 and a 20, but yeah, um. I feel Not So Moo.

I have way too many books on Imperial Russia.

I found my copy of the Aeneid. You know, the one I was translating in April? I found a lot of my books, really. Too bad I was looking for my socks.

Holy shit, that's where my Christmas Blend t-shirt from 2000 went.

My cat's reaction time, re: toppling cartons, = not so much. Meowsquish.

That is all.
And I get to see my girl in 32 hours!!!!