The ides of March.
I'm so tired--I'm practically falling asleep while typing. I've had such a full day trying to supplant sweet order into chaos. Today's been good! The weather's been forgiving. Every imaginable Georgia flower, shrub, and tree has erupted in flowers. They've been playing more of the Cure on local radio stations lately, and I listen with the sun roof open in my car. For the last three days, I've had coffee delivered to me in bed. (Best thing in the world.) I'm hoping for a fourth.
I found a first edition of Lolita today at a thrift store. I hate that! Now I have to make the decision whether to keep it or sell it. I feel like such a "sell-out" if I sell the copy--since when did the words on the page become worth less than money in my Etienne Aigner wallet? When did I lose my urgent sense of lit-snobbery?
I think it all goes back to Starbuck's coffee. I said I'd never drink it, unless there was nothing else available. In an airport, for example. Big business putting the small mom and pops out of their cute little coffee shops, blah, blah, blah. I'd also gotten very upset with a Starbuck's barista who argued with me about the validity of my order for an "iced cappucino." He said such a thing didn't exist. The little snot pointed out that it wouldn't be a cappucino without the foam, and an "iced cappucino" wouldn't have any foam, now would it? He made me feel like such an imbecile when all I wanted was my freakin' morning coffee. I didn't go to Starbuck's for YEARS after that. (I tend to hold grudges.)
But then I got married, and my husband made light of all my little prejudices about coffee and books and public restrooms. I broke down and went to Starbuck's a few times, and now here I am, thinking about selling Lolita. (I still won't go in public restrooms.)
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Beware.
Imparted by Southern Girl at 10:29 PM
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