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The highlight of my day came when I got home this evening and found a package at my front door. My little mimi sent me some good luck essentials for my test on Saturday!
Favorites include the Hello Kitty cleansing wipes and the striped socks. She knows me well!
I’ll note that it took all of two seconds for me to rip open the bag of M&M’s. No self control whatsoever.
Just looking at those serious expressions, you can tell there’s sustenance there. I believe I was working at Handango when I purchased my first Hall & Oats album. I downloaded it onto my first mega MP3 player and began listening while I was at work. It was love from the beginning. Smalls quickly took notice of my head bobbing and leg taping and asked to borrow my headphones to give them a listen. She fell in love, too.
Once you get past the ridiculous picture and the pondering of whether or not their partnership extended beyond the recording studio, it’s really easy to get absorbed in the music. Most people would recognize their songs if they heard them over the radio. They’d most likely say, “Oh yeah, I love that song”, but wouldn’t be able to tell you who was singing. That’s why I think they are a very underappreciated band. And I’d be happy to burn you a copy if you’d like. There’s nothing I’d love more than being able to share my H&O joy with you.
Well, you-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo, you make-a my dreams come true…
I always enjoy a good complement, but it’s the out of the ordinary ones that really tug at my heart-strings. First, there was the random lady at Bally’s who said, “Girl, you’ve got Tina Turner legs” as I was getting off my weight machine. Then, there was the mailroom guy at the law firm in DC that said, “Hey, you’ve got a great walk, a great stride” as I was leaving the supply room. And, last night I got my most recent installment of the random compliment.
My low tire pressure light came on the other day and so, on my way home last night I decided to visit the nearby gas station and try to figure this puppy out. Yes, I’ve never checked tire pressure nor put air in my tires before. Laugh all you want. Luckily, I’m quick a quick learner and figured it out on the fly. As I was putting the caps back on my tires, a random fellow on a bike cruised up and said, “Hey, you look really good putting air in your tires”. And then he kept going.
Fortunately, this gentleman didn’t witness the next 10 minutes of my life.
I decided to go ahead and get gas while I was stopped. The first pump I pulled up next to didn’t have a pump, so I got back in the car drove to another one. As the gas was pumping, I set my wallet on top of my car so I could use my free hands to clean out my backseat. The pump soon stopped, I replaced the nozzle and was on my way. Feeling accomplished and productive, I cruised across the street to the do-it-yourself car wash. I normally steer clear of these car washes based on the fact that I will always remember the Austin-Colleen Reed-West 5th Street Car Wash abduction in 1991. And also the hours upon hours of fright I accumulated watching Unsolved Mysteries with my 82-year-old babysitter, Miss P.
But, this time I reasoned that it was broad daylight and my home was two blocks away. I pulled into an open stall and parked. When I went to reach for some change, I realized I didn’t have my wallet. And then I realized I left it on the roof. I jumped out to see if it was still there. It wasn’t. So, I quickly drove back across the street to retrace my steps. It wasn’t near my pump and just as I began to doubt the integrity of my neighborhood folk, I walked into the gas station only to see a good Samaritan handing my wallet over to the clerk. Apparently, he rescued it from the middle of the street (Question: Should I have tipped him?).
Wallet in hand, I cruised back to the other side of the street to resume my car washing attempt. I think I lost a lot of change in the wallet debacle, but I scrounged up enough for one cycle of wash which lasted 3 minutes. Seemed like a long enough time. I rinsed the car off, then applied a round of soap, then began to rinse again. Halfway through the last rinse, the water cut off. Of course it did. I managed to swipe a towel from my trunk and wipe it off the soap suds in all their streaky glory. In doing so, I noticed that one of my tire caps was missing. In one final gusto, I drove myself back across the street to retrace my steps again. Thank goodness I found the cap.
Moral of the story: Enjoy the random compliments, but don’t let them lose your focus. It only takes seconds to look like an idiot again.