My forearms hurt today. Probably because I am about to have a stroke. No probably not, but I really don’t know why they hurt. No strenuous exercise in my little world. No push ups, pull ups, or left hooks. Just a whole lot of ache. Aching arms. Aching empty arms. Maybe it has something to do with my husband and his horrible sense of irony for making me sit in the pew directly behind a three week old baby on Sunday. Ask me what was said in that meeting. Ask me. Don’t know. Do know that baby has blue eyes, a green pacifier and crinkles up his nose right before he starts to whimper-cry. Do know that baby has a light blue and brown blanket and matching carrier cover. And all of these things were noticed within the first ten minutes of church before mommy started giving me the evil eye for drooling over her infant, and decided to hold him for the rest of the time. Empty aching arms…
I showed people at work my pictures of my homeboys today. The homeboys that actually belong to my husband and his BFF from the mission, TB. Good ol’ boys from Oakland. They came up to see me (no not really me, really husband and TB, but if they had known I was going to be there, they would have said it was to see me… After they met me that is…) on Saturday, and we had such fun. And when Scotland hangs around them, he loses a bit of his Kentucky drawl and replaces it with some Oaklun’ slang. Cracks me up. Anyways, one of them, Lo, he has two munchkins and one on the way back home, and he promised that if I drank some of his homebrewed baby juice, I would have one on the way too. Said that it worked for his wife, and they have only been married three years….But maybe I won’t drink quite as much as she had…
Dropped off some checks at the bank today, and since I had my camera with me, I snapped a quick picture of the drive thru window because it had a cool reflection on it. Turns out, bank people get a little irritated when you take pictures of their people working. Guess they think you are casing the joint or somethin’. A bit of an overreaction if you ask me. But I got this one before they asked me to stop. Can you see the reflection?
Then as I was driving home contemplating how handy it was to carry around my camera in case any photo opportunities presented themselves, I realized I had better stop paying attention to photo opportunities that were not directly on the road in front of me or I would get into a wreck. But wouldn’t it be handy if I had that camera with me if I did get into a wreck? And then a car pulled out in front of me and I almost got into that wreck. But I slammed on the breaks and did a sandpaper skid to a stop (thanks to the studded snow tires) and was glad that I didn’t have to take pictures of my smashed up car that had narrowly avoided being smashed up. (did that even make sense?)
Going walking with KJ tonight. KJ and her sweetest ever baby boy. (Oh my arms!)We like walking at night a lot more than in the morning. We tried the morning thing on Saturday and were constantly reminded of the amateur mall walkers we are. Hello! No one told us that you have to go in all the little inny hallways of the mall! We were just walking the long hallway and thought that was good! And boy howdy those mall walkers are serious about their game! When we turned a corner before the yellow wet floor sign instead of after where everyone else was turning, I thought one lady with bulging eyes was going to chew my leg off. And after nearly missing the exact same corner five times in a row (what did it move on us?) we determined that the sharply pointed nature of the corner was to blame. And by the way did I mention that those mall walkers were stretching all gathered together like a pack of warmed up wolves ready to devour the weaklings like us? Balanced on one leg as they do that crazy flamingo stretch staring us down while the peach fuzz on their tracksuits start to curl. I have never been so intimidated of senior citz in my life!
I do have one never ending joy of mall walking though, no matter what time we go. The general freakshowness of the population at the mall never fail to amuse me with their homeslice gangsta attire (even Saturday morning at nine am there were loitering teenage boys lookin’ for a little bit o’ action) or their inappropriate-to-be-seen-in-public-attire (pajama bottoms and a halter top? Really?). As KJ so thoughtfully reminded me, it’s like going to a carnival freak show that you don’t have to pay for! Silver lining? No honey, this one’s gold…
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