And my interpretation:
B and I went to Earnestine & Hazel’s after the show last night. It is ranked #40 of 57 things you must do in Memphis. So you can see why I lived here for a couple years before finally making it to the upstairs. I had to get through the first 46 things.
I made B go with me to the Zoo Boo last night, for research of course. I just had to see what the place looked like after hours. It was packed with kids in costumes, the cutest being a little toddler boy dressed up like a cowboy (classic). Pushing these kids around in strollers and by hand were plenty of adults in costume. Sexy Dorothy above is just a mom in white tights, not a hired hand of the Zoo Boo. We also saw a sexy mom teenage mutant ninja turtle (think green metallic spandex) and a sexy pac-woman mom. But hey, if you can’t unleash your sexy beast at the zoo, where are you going to do it?
Traveling and season changes are key ingredients for two disastrous things in my life: losing sh*t and getting migraines.
Somehow in my packing and unpacking I lost a couple things that have nothing to do with my trip:
I found the flash drives but I can’t confirm that someone didn’t take them overnight, copy all my files, and then submit them to The New York Times or The Paris Review or something. We will know soon enough.
As far as the index cards I can only imagine the places one could misplace a stack of index cards because index cards are only used for one of three things:
I’m no technophobe but I like a mix of hard copy items mixed up with my digital stuff, unfortunately you can see that me losing index cards AND flash drives proves that you can be equally screwed.
As for the other thing, the migraines, I won’t elaborate because sometimes migraine stories are like other-peoples-dream stories and sometimes they are incriminating. This one is a splash of one and a dash of the other, so I’ll leave it out for today.
But speaking of incriminating, on my way to work the other day I got caught behind two cop cars having a red-light steering wheel dance off. Their windows were down and they were blasting some kind of music (from their cop radios?) and they were definitely bobbing their heads and waving their hands all about like they just didn’t care. I couldn’t believe my eyes but there they were – cops dancing like bacon in a frying pan, I mean like popcorn over a hot fire, like corks on waves, like no one was watching. They even kept it going for quite a while after the light turned green but what was I going to do? Honk my horn and remind them that my tags are due for renewal?
I grabbed my camera when it was a bit too late, but here they are, the dancing policeman – if you get pulled by ‘em just see if you can groove your way out of it:
I was looking through my book of completion pics and I saw that I had skipped a photo! Somewhere between a boat and a beach walk, there was this pair of pliers. You can analyze my “forgetfulness” after you analyze this:
And my interpretation:
Ok before you get too excited you should know that this is a very literal interpretation because I have actually removed a broken corkscrew from a bottle of wine (the last bottle of wine in the house on a Sunday – in Tennessee that means you are S.O.L unless you know how to 1)use pliers or 2)use a machete) with a pair of pliers. Just know that pliers are a symbol of victory for me.
I had to mail a package yesterday and I stepped up to the counter and said, “I’d like to send this package priority with delivery confirmation…” and the clerk sighed, SIGHED with the wind of a million annoyances. I said, “I’m sorry? Is that not possible?” She was wiping her forehead and said, “Oh no you’re fine….whew…you have no idea what I am going through right now.” And even though I gathered she was having some kind of hot flash, she was right, I had no real idea – well until she said, “Don’t ever get old.” I was like, “Too late. It is happening to everyone.” And then she rang me up after selling me endangered species tiger stamps (they were better than the Gregory Peck ones).