Thank you all for the nice comments on our big news. I was hesitant to even share because it feels a bit braggadocios and I never want to be that person. Deep down inside, I still feel like the little kid running the streets of a trailer park and so when something GOOD happens, I feel guilty for my good fortune. I know, I probably need some therapy, but I’ve been so successful burying all my past baggage and I’m gonna keep it there.
I had a nice birthday week. Why not enjoy it ALL week?
I had some birthday time/love with my In-Laws, my girlfriend Stacy, and my Lindsay and of course my main squeeze.
Oh, and I was in Marshalls on Friday and I ran into my good friend Dawn who I’ve not seen in months even though we live in the same damn town. It took me a minute to realize it was even her because of the flipping masks. Can you imagine? We’ve known each other for 20+ years and I almost walked right past her. SO funny, we were able to catch up for about 5 minutes socially separated right there in the home goods dept of Marshalls.
A few things I pondered this week and I don’t think they have anything to do with my getting older. OR, maybe they have everything with my getting older.
(1) I was behind a car at an intersection and I noted they had a cute bumper sticker down on the left bumper that read: BE KIND.
Simply said. We’ve already gone over the fact that I don’t care for bumper stickers, but whatever. This was tolerable.
BUT, one simply can’t say BE KIND and leave it there. No, they can’t.
I then noted on the upper right-hand side near the back window it was some sort of comic character that I didn’t recognize and it was giving the FINGER and simply stated PISS OFF.
Mixed messaged ass-hat, table for one.
(2) THIS has nothing to do with anything, but it dawned on me as I purchased a bottle of Greek salad dressing. I LOVE a Greek salad. But I loathe the ONE component of a Greek salad: Olives. If I get a salad or dish that has olives on it, I can’t just remove the olives and eat my meal. Why? Because olives leave behind their hideous juice, residue, DNA on everything and I loathe the taste.
ughhh…I will never understand the allure. So, this made me wonder. Do I really love Greek Salads, or do I just love the dressing? These are the things that keep my brain oh, so busy. Nonsense.
I had visions of visiting Greece one day; doesn’t it just look like the dreamiest place on earth? BUT, I also had visions of them serving olives with.every.dish and I’d have to be all, no, take this back because an olive touched the good food.
I suppose I’ll just have to visit Italy because I can tolerate cheese and wine with no issues. But wait, we ain’t going nowhere anytime soon. Well, except for Georgia.
Tell me, are you on team Olive? Or team Suzanne?