How lucky, how lucky we are

Several things have struck me lately and I haven't captured my thoughts for most of them. But here are a few.

The recent salvation of my future boyfriend from the lake of fire. One of the cutest old couples ever came to the drive through, and as the girl making the drinks was taking 9 trillion hours, I was chatting with them. Below are excerpts from our conversation. Too bad you can't hear my vocal inflections. Sidenote-lots of laughing from both sides of the window took place.

K: So do you guys have any fun plans for your Saturday?
Them: Fun plans? Did you have anything in mind? We're seventy years old! What kind of plans are we going to have?
K: Well, the car in front of you is going to a soccer game.
Them: Well, if our grandkids were playing, we might go, but they're not playing today.
...
Them: So. Do you have a boyfriend?
K: Nope!
T: WHAT?! A pretty young girl like yourself without a boyfriend?
K: It's true.
The wife: Oh, yes, but are you married?
K: Nope, not married either.
Them: *general noises of shock and dismay* How old are you?
K: Twenty-two.
T: Twenty-two!!! Why, at your age we were married and having children! We got married when we were 17 and 18.
K: Times they are a-changin.
[man slides thick tract across to me. Glancing down, I notice it is titled "Bad Bob" a bearded man with an underbite, sunglasses, & frown is featured across a confederate flag background]
T: Well, you give this to your boyfriend when you get one. You make sure he's not like the man in this book.

Later on I will scan the most exceptional frames from "Bad Bob" and post them on here. It is the most hysterical tract I've ever read. And those two older people where some of the cutest I've ever met. They also told me that their church is a good place to go for the men. They have lots.
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Yesterday I sliced up little pieces of an avocado to put on crackers. Meiko's song "Lucky" was playing in my head. The lyrics begin, "One day we'll get out of this shitty apartment" and feature "and I'll say how lucky we are." I thought that was a little ironic because Kimberlea and I have not always been satisfied with campus housing. This year has been pretty good. I had one of those, 'Yes, but it's good now, too' moments. Thinking about how lucky I've been, too. The last time I mashed up avocados to put on crackers I was at a hot purple hostel in La Fortuna and Becky was teaching me the art of salt and avocados and saltine crackers and swearing to me that the brown parts are edible. It was a simple meal and it rocked my world...things often do when you're famished from ziplining :) Eating saltine crackers and mashed avocados was one of the happier moments in my life and I hope to always think of it when I use avocados. This is quite possible since they are ridiculously expensive so I won't buy them often enough to forget.

I'm lucky now, too. Lucky enough to have a roommate who is as crazy as I am. Lucky to have people to share life with. As graduation is finally dawning on me, I reflect that it's been a good four years. It was and it wasn't what I expected. I kept my promise not to kill myself academically, but I gave it a good shot that paid off. I think I've learned a lot and changed a lot and remained a lot the same. And I still like naps.

My conversation with the unicyclist

A guy on a unicycle just rode by. I looked up with my customary smile and realized he was on a unicycle. My expression changed to, "You're on a unicycle. No one around here rides a unicycle." And his changed to, "You're totally realizing I'm on a unicycle and you don't know what to do with it." He kept riding on with a grin and I sat there with a bemused expression on my face.

Keep on a'rockin' me baby

Hmmm...blogging. This could be dangerous. I haven't blogged for quite some time. This is probably because a lot of blogs annoy me. They are either 1) a way to vent feelings that you should just share in-person 2) emotional ramblings 3) spiritual barf 4) pseudointelligent showing off 5) boring.

I don't buy that whole nonsense that "If you don't like what I write, don't read it." Get yourself a damn diary, that's what I say. And yet, here I am, writing a blog.

The paper is only 6 pages and it was due a week ago. Yet it is only natural that the smell of blog would be more alluring right now than the smell of paper. It's not a bad paper, I'm learning lots about Edna St. Vincent Millay. One of those poets that is often forgotten but shouldn't be. I'll post an excerpt: