Occasionally, on the mornings I am driving to the Thanksgiving Point Deli for work, I pass a very old very Kenyan, very short and very skinny man, jogging to work in his Del Taco uniform. It puts the most genuine and well appreciated joy inside of me.
Never-ever go shoe shopping at Nordstrom by yourself on a Friday night. Especially if you feel like an un-authorized woman, meaning very mediocre in looks and low fashion in context. They have like 10 incredibly attractive, seemingly British or Australian young men working the floor. And they were more stylish and high-end than I could ever be, even as a lady. And when a worker brought me some shoes to try on, he kneeled by my chair. As I struggled to gracefully put the shoe that was way too small on my foot. Ah. I felt so...helpless in my skin. And the only thing I can really hope is that they were all gay. Then I wouldn't feel so tried and untrue.
I love Katy Perry. Weird, I know. I especially love her when she sings Thinking of You
That brings me to my next topic. How am I ever seriously going to move on??? Is that possible for my delicate yet powerfully overtaking memories?
I sometimes really really hate nostalgia.
Not Going Home by The Elected is one of my all-time FAVorite songs.
This is a short list, but it sums up just one day of my life.