When I was out walking today, this butterfly flew about 20 feet in front of me like it was on cue, waiting. It was on a straight path down the sidewalk I was on. I sped up to keep up with it. I thought maybe it was showing me the way. Hands in my pockets (trying to look casual) I kind of started running behind it but I couldn't keep up. It veered off my path and I tried to keep a view of it as much as I could. It flew higher and was lost finally somewhere behind the trees in the park. As gigantic as I am compared to this delicate, graceful butterfly, I couldn't keep up. It made me wish I could fly too and follow it a bit longer. Now I can only imagine where it was going—where it possibly meant for me to go.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Learning To Be A Good Cop
I could not tell you the joy I felt getting outside and walking yesterday, but I'll try to.
Saturday was a rough day. I still needed my walking cane to get around my apartment. I didn't go out. I was feeling really bummed because it had been almost one month since I broke my toe. I was fearing that maybe I should have done more or possibly walked less until I was properly healed. I'm taking the bone-strengthening combo calcium/magnisium/zink but I didn't get the silica I had on my list. I've been eating right. I cut down adding sugar or sweeteners—I read that sugar can interfere with healing bones. All that and I was still in pain almost one month later. Then Sunday came.
I really don't know what happened but I felt good as soon as I woke up. I had a dream the night before that I flexed my toes and felt excruciating pain to the point where I started crying. Awake, I buddy taped my toes I tried flexing them and wow! They didn't hurt doing that! And now I was up and walking around my place without my cane. I needed to celebrate. I drove over to the Walnut Street Shops in Shadyside to window shop and walk around.
I parked much closer to the shops than I normal do. I have to change my walking habits and ease into all this for now. I stopped by the newly remodeled Apple Store, but I must say, it doesn't seem all that different than from before. There was a sidewalk sale outside so I took to walking around from shop to shop.
Along the way I saw this woman with forearm crutches. My heart felt for her. As slow as I was walking, she was even slower. I didn't pass her up with my nose up in the air like so many people have done to me when I was with my cane. I watched her as long as I could without making her feel uncomfortable. Here I was complaining about my sucky summer because of a broken toe. This woman has to deal with two crutches and getting herself around. It's beyond tough. It's physically exhausting and emotionally draining. I could only feel a micro part of myself that could identify with her but at least I felt that. I'm almost sure most people didn't empathize or even see her. I did.
I'm glad I broke my toe. It's slowed me down. Not that my life was very fast mind you, but I just really was not in the moment. I was always thinking ahead; where I should be, what I should and wasn't doing. Now, I have seen things like shadows move. I helped a struggling earth worm off a sidewalk after a rainstorm. I witnessed people's kindness to my temporary condition and I've witnessed people's all-out ignorance to people with special needs. I see people with walking canes, and there are so many. I never saw them before. I, like maybe you, thought they were just too slow or too lazy or too unhealthy. I probably walked faster around them like maybe you have done with a cocky 'I'm great, get out of my way' attitude. I'm trying to not pass judgement on people anymore. Nobody but nobody knows what we go through—our struggles and setbacks—than we do. So, I feel like this momentary physical challenge I had has indeed changed me. I want to be a better person and I am very thankful for all the good that's happened in my life.
Saturday was a rough day. I still needed my walking cane to get around my apartment. I didn't go out. I was feeling really bummed because it had been almost one month since I broke my toe. I was fearing that maybe I should have done more or possibly walked less until I was properly healed. I'm taking the bone-strengthening combo calcium/magnisium/zink but I didn't get the silica I had on my list. I've been eating right. I cut down adding sugar or sweeteners—I read that sugar can interfere with healing bones. All that and I was still in pain almost one month later. Then Sunday came.
I really don't know what happened but I felt good as soon as I woke up. I had a dream the night before that I flexed my toes and felt excruciating pain to the point where I started crying. Awake, I buddy taped my toes I tried flexing them and wow! They didn't hurt doing that! And now I was up and walking around my place without my cane. I needed to celebrate. I drove over to the Walnut Street Shops in Shadyside to window shop and walk around.
I parked much closer to the shops than I normal do. I have to change my walking habits and ease into all this for now. I stopped by the newly remodeled Apple Store, but I must say, it doesn't seem all that different than from before. There was a sidewalk sale outside so I took to walking around from shop to shop.
Along the way I saw this woman with forearm crutches. My heart felt for her. As slow as I was walking, she was even slower. I didn't pass her up with my nose up in the air like so many people have done to me when I was with my cane. I watched her as long as I could without making her feel uncomfortable. Here I was complaining about my sucky summer because of a broken toe. This woman has to deal with two crutches and getting herself around. It's beyond tough. It's physically exhausting and emotionally draining. I could only feel a micro part of myself that could identify with her but at least I felt that. I'm almost sure most people didn't empathize or even see her. I did.
I'm glad I broke my toe. It's slowed me down. Not that my life was very fast mind you, but I just really was not in the moment. I was always thinking ahead; where I should be, what I should and wasn't doing. Now, I have seen things like shadows move. I helped a struggling earth worm off a sidewalk after a rainstorm. I witnessed people's kindness to my temporary condition and I've witnessed people's all-out ignorance to people with special needs. I see people with walking canes, and there are so many. I never saw them before. I, like maybe you, thought they were just too slow or too lazy or too unhealthy. I probably walked faster around them like maybe you have done with a cocky 'I'm great, get out of my way' attitude. I'm trying to not pass judgement on people anymore. Nobody but nobody knows what we go through—our struggles and setbacks—than we do. So, I feel like this momentary physical challenge I had has indeed changed me. I want to be a better person and I am very thankful for all the good that's happened in my life.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Walking In My Chucks
I think my toe is coming along nicely after being broken on the Fourth. Today is a good day. I'm not in major pain, but I'm taking it easy. This month I was going around this odd expression on my face when I'd walk with my cane outside. Some people are nice and try to make eye contact with me, but mostly I wouldn't look at them and stare down at the pavement, wondering why this had to happen to me right now. What wrong did I do? Who did I hurt? Why? My 12-day summer vacation was a complete disaster. It ended with me accidently banging my foot into my hallway corner at home then a visit to the emergency room to confirm the damage. But you know how people say you should learn from bad things? Well, I did. I'm more aware of people with walking canes. And there are so many! I never really noticed them before. You won't either, until something happens to you.
Walking on a cane is exhausting.
I'm scheduled to ditch my cane at the end of the month. I cannot wait. Keeping my foot elevated and taking twice, sometimes three times as long to get anywhere has not been fun. But, I have learned. If you see somebody with a walking cane get on the bus, move your lazy ass from the front of the bus to the back. The seats at the front are for those with special needs. It's not for those who doll themselves up and think they are special. I cannot tell you how enraged I feel when I see young people get on the bus, plop themselves down on the front seats and start checking their cell phone messages. I once saw this guy—a young, healthy hospital worker—with his scrubs on watch as a blind person was getting on the bus. He was seated at the first front seat and just watched this blind woman and her dog as older people opposite him had to move to let her sit down. I watched him carefully. There was nothing, nothing wrong with him. He had his scrubs pulled down past his ass and pulled them up once he got off out onto his street where his hospital was. I stared him down but it didn't work. It baffles me how someone can work IN A HOSPITAL, and not want to help others when they're off duty.
I can't wait to run again! I miss running for the bus with determination and speed. I miss walking everywhere! I had to cut back all my walking. I miss my bed. I've taken to sleeping my couch so I can keep my one foot elevated off the arm shoulder. A bed would just be too comfy. I miss comfy! I miss dancing! I was born a dancer. I dance all the time. At home sometimes when I'm up and a good song is on, I'll do stuff leaning on my cane and I'm very thankful I can even be up on my feet. But yes, I miss the freedom of going out on a dance floor and dancing non-stop for 2 hours.
I'll reverse this saying so you'll get the meaning: Sometimes you need to get down to get up.
When this is all done, I think I'll be a better dancer.
Walking on a cane is exhausting.
I'm scheduled to ditch my cane at the end of the month. I cannot wait. Keeping my foot elevated and taking twice, sometimes three times as long to get anywhere has not been fun. But, I have learned. If you see somebody with a walking cane get on the bus, move your lazy ass from the front of the bus to the back. The seats at the front are for those with special needs. It's not for those who doll themselves up and think they are special. I cannot tell you how enraged I feel when I see young people get on the bus, plop themselves down on the front seats and start checking their cell phone messages. I once saw this guy—a young, healthy hospital worker—with his scrubs on watch as a blind person was getting on the bus. He was seated at the first front seat and just watched this blind woman and her dog as older people opposite him had to move to let her sit down. I watched him carefully. There was nothing, nothing wrong with him. He had his scrubs pulled down past his ass and pulled them up once he got off out onto his street where his hospital was. I stared him down but it didn't work. It baffles me how someone can work IN A HOSPITAL, and not want to help others when they're off duty.
I can't wait to run again! I miss running for the bus with determination and speed. I miss walking everywhere! I had to cut back all my walking. I miss my bed. I've taken to sleeping my couch so I can keep my one foot elevated off the arm shoulder. A bed would just be too comfy. I miss comfy! I miss dancing! I was born a dancer. I dance all the time. At home sometimes when I'm up and a good song is on, I'll do stuff leaning on my cane and I'm very thankful I can even be up on my feet. But yes, I miss the freedom of going out on a dance floor and dancing non-stop for 2 hours.
I'll reverse this saying so you'll get the meaning: Sometimes you need to get down to get up.
When this is all done, I think I'll be a better dancer.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Buying My Happiness
Earlier in the day, at lunch, I walked over to the bank to cash the hundred dollar check my parents gave me for my birthday. This year instead of just doing a boring old deposit, I got the cash. I already knew what my first purchase would be. I schemed.
Tired from the day, physically and very much emotionally, I needed a pick-me-up lying there on my couch, depressed tonight. I noticed it was 8:22 PM after I got off the phone with my mom. Too late for grocery shopping, but not too late for 50% of my birthday gift!
I quickly got dressed in my shorts and t-shirt and headed to the Shadyside Walnut Street Shops. Raining and dark, I noticed most all of the shops were already closed for the evening at 8 PM when I got there. I was so bummed that I figured even if the gift shop store I wanted was closed, I could check out the times on their door and plan to come back tomorrow. Maybe even cry a little because of the energy I spent to get there.
I passed the trendy coffee shop that I really never go to that often and wondered what the people in there thought of my walking cane as I passed. Usually, nobody says anything and I didn't look for their reaction. I was focused on my gift store destination. I saw lights emanating from it, but that didn't mean much. Most shops keep their lights on for security reasons at night. I got to the door and saw some young guy in there who looked like he could be working. Hope! I went for the door handle. It opened!
"Just so you know we close in about ten minutes," he said.
"I know," I semi-giggled back as I passed right by him.
I knew what I wanted and got it. I bought "The Star Wars Poster Book"! I've always loved that book ever since it came out but just never got it because it was $50. Now, it's mine and will be perched close by my bedside tonight along with my other books.
Books don't give me great conversation at night and never a snuggle, but they make me wonder and dream of all those things.
Tired from the day, physically and very much emotionally, I needed a pick-me-up lying there on my couch, depressed tonight. I noticed it was 8:22 PM after I got off the phone with my mom. Too late for grocery shopping, but not too late for 50% of my birthday gift!
I quickly got dressed in my shorts and t-shirt and headed to the Shadyside Walnut Street Shops. Raining and dark, I noticed most all of the shops were already closed for the evening at 8 PM when I got there. I was so bummed that I figured even if the gift shop store I wanted was closed, I could check out the times on their door and plan to come back tomorrow. Maybe even cry a little because of the energy I spent to get there.
I passed the trendy coffee shop that I really never go to that often and wondered what the people in there thought of my walking cane as I passed. Usually, nobody says anything and I didn't look for their reaction. I was focused on my gift store destination. I saw lights emanating from it, but that didn't mean much. Most shops keep their lights on for security reasons at night. I got to the door and saw some young guy in there who looked like he could be working. Hope! I went for the door handle. It opened!
"Just so you know we close in about ten minutes," he said.
"I know," I semi-giggled back as I passed right by him.
I knew what I wanted and got it. I bought "The Star Wars Poster Book"! I've always loved that book ever since it came out but just never got it because it was $50. Now, it's mine and will be perched close by my bedside tonight along with my other books.
Books don't give me great conversation at night and never a snuggle, but they make me wonder and dream of all those things.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Grooming 101
So when I was washing my hair and couple of days ago, guess what I did? I shampooed my beard!
I did that again yesterday morning and I'll probably do it again today. There's just something a bit extravagant doing it. It makes me feel rich. I like smelling fresh. If my hair gets attention, so should my beard. So, I might be in the shower a few seconds longer, but I think it's time well spent. It makes me happy and I'm a huge sucker for anything that makes me happy.
I did that again yesterday morning and I'll probably do it again today. There's just something a bit extravagant doing it. It makes me feel rich. I like smelling fresh. If my hair gets attention, so should my beard. So, I might be in the shower a few seconds longer, but I think it's time well spent. It makes me happy and I'm a huge sucker for anything that makes me happy.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Shadowplaying
Exhausting and hard as it was, I had my good moments yesterday. Here are three of the best:
Voguing in, out of, and back into an elevator when nobody was looking. I was smiling the whole time, almost laughing.
Ripping my shirt off in the alley behind my place at high noon. The sun was blaring and I was annoyed that I was getting burnt just on my neck and face. I was half-naked and it felt freeing.
Watching the shadow cast by the bus stop overhanging passing over points in the sidewalk that I mentally marked. I could not remember the last time I sat down in one place to see shadows cast from still objects move. Can you? It's proof that our planet is spinning around—a scientific fact that gave me joy for the day. Our earth is moving even if we're not.
I long for more moments like these. Inevitably they will come. Thank goodness.
Voguing in, out of, and back into an elevator when nobody was looking. I was smiling the whole time, almost laughing.
Ripping my shirt off in the alley behind my place at high noon. The sun was blaring and I was annoyed that I was getting burnt just on my neck and face. I was half-naked and it felt freeing.
Watching the shadow cast by the bus stop overhanging passing over points in the sidewalk that I mentally marked. I could not remember the last time I sat down in one place to see shadows cast from still objects move. Can you? It's proof that our planet is spinning around—a scientific fact that gave me joy for the day. Our earth is moving even if we're not.
I long for more moments like these. Inevitably they will come. Thank goodness.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Milkshakes
Written before midnight on July 3, 2009.
The headache I got from my afternoon non-delite is finally fading. I've been all good and positive about my staycation up to this point, but now I can blame Joe for ruining a good part of it.
Earlier today I was going through my Twitter account. A favorite radio DJ of mine mentioned a free music show today that was happening at a new clothing store in Garfield called Tweek. I slept the morning away for no apparent reason other than I was tired and still achy from the other day. By early in the afternoon I grabbed a shower and then made my way to the store to do some major grocery shopping.
Before my groceries, I stopped by Borders and did waste a lot of time there trying to find stuff their computer said they had but was, for some annoying reason, just not there. I had a birthday coupon burning my pocket. I wanted either Placebo's new album or the re-issue of Morrissey's 'Maladjusted'. As much as I wished them to be, they were either hiding or misplaced at some other part of the store. Like, I found a CD in the comic book section lying there on top of some books. Of course it wasn't the one I wanted. I'm pretty stubborn when it comes to settling on something so I did my best detective work and scanned every inch of the media sections. Isn't it sad that stores are slimming down their CD sections, if not eliminating them? I was upset to witness LPs vanish (though I know they are still there—just impossible to find). Cassettes? Not so much. But CDs? CDs are the last physical format of music we'll be able to hold in our hands. It makes me very sad to watch them disappear too. That's why I buy what I like, when I can, now. Anyway, I never found either CD, left to get water at Whole Foods (the only thing I can afford there) and did my grocery shopping at Trader Joe's—all $107 worth. My cart was packed.
I had everything planned for the evening. As I got home I readily unpacked all my groceries and threw my frozen pizza in the oven. As that was baking (I kept time on my clock) I put away all my groceries. After all my bags were empty I noticed my milk was missing. The same milk that Joe (I made note of his nametag. Ironic name, huh?) asked me if I wanted bagged in plastic or not. I said "Yes." Was this my punishment? I freaking recycle! (Ugh!) I took my pizza out of the oven, let it cool before putting it back in. (My oven could keep it warm without burning it 'til I got back.) I had to drive all the way back to Traders and explain that my milk was missing.
I passed Joe but he was busy. I guess in these situations, people get all bitchy and mad and stuff. I'm not like that. I always start my statements (not complaints) with "um." I found the customer service station and made eye contact with the main guy there.
"Um, this never happened before here but Joe, the guy that bagged my groceries, didn't put the milk I bought in my cart," and I was showing him my longish receipt. I was pointing at "Milk Whole Gallon TJ's." (Thank goodness it wasn't labelled "Homo Milk.") He was nice about it and said to just grab a milk and carry it out. I always knew Traders would be cool in situations like this. But ooh that Joe! He was destroying my night of cool.
I drove back home with my cold milk in the passenger seat. I felt like I was reunited with my best friend. He didn't say much, but I knew he would do my body good when I got him home.
I ate my pizza, switched from shorts to jeans and headed out. I was looking at my bus schedule realizing that the bus I needed to get me close to Garfield was going to be at the bus stop in about 9 minutes. I started running the whole way (It's generally a 15-minute walk). What I love about running when I'm off work is not having to lug my backpack filled with junk. I also wear steel-tipped Doc Martins a lot to work, so I carry a lot of weight—much more than I should. I love it when I'm in my civilian clothes. I can run even that much more faster. Chucks are light and it's awesome not having anything else with me but my key, a 5 dollar bill, my Pitt ID, an iPod nano and my camera.
I made it to my bus stop in time. I guess. I didn't know if July 3 was considered a holiday. Buses run on a different schedule during the holidays. I had to wait (anyway) about 10 minutes for a bus to show. At least it gave me a chance to sweat in semi-private. I hate getting on the bus and sweating bullets. I always think that someone else mightthink that I'm on drugs or something.
Well, turns out I got to the show at Tweet Clothing just in time to see the last 3 minutes. The main act, The Everyday Visuals, were really good too! I wanted to get a CD of theirs but forgot to bring more money. I also knew ahead of time that Tweet accepts credit cards and I forgot about that before I headed out. I felt so bad and cheap. This really handsome, young guy that worked at the store asked if I wanted any help when I was browsing. I told him that I only had $5 with me but that I'd be back some other day. I know that may sound like a line but I meant it. I like supporting up-and-coming things and I was really liking their t-shirt designs.
From there I just slid outside the store hoping not to be noticed too much. I was late and poor. I spent the rest of my time poking around Garfield. There were pockets of cool people around, but of course none of them talk to me. I walked into what seemed be a gallery opening and was accosted by some guy with a ceramic money-filled mug asking me for a dollar. I suppose it was for the gallery and there was a band of sorts playing in the corner, but I know for a fact that galleries are free. They should have donation boxes which I do donate to, but to have someone asking upfront and in your face for a dollar was lame. I lied and said I just had my bus pass with me. Again, I slid out of there too.
So here I am back at my place. I can feel my leg muscles throbbing with aches like they usually do when I come home from work. I don't have any spectacular or exotic events to dish about thus far on my vacation. No hot dates, definitely no sexy time, no disco dancing nights but I did get together with my friend last night which was a treat. I told her of my vacation misadventures and caught her up on my life which isn't all that exciting. Well, except for the fact that I'm much happier. I think that in itself can be considered a good achievement; something to be proud of.
I'm going to paraphrase the "If life gives you lemons…" bit now with: If Joe fails to give you your milk, when you get it back… be good to yourself and make a milkshake.
The headache I got from my afternoon non-delite is finally fading. I've been all good and positive about my staycation up to this point, but now I can blame Joe for ruining a good part of it.
Earlier today I was going through my Twitter account. A favorite radio DJ of mine mentioned a free music show today that was happening at a new clothing store in Garfield called Tweek. I slept the morning away for no apparent reason other than I was tired and still achy from the other day. By early in the afternoon I grabbed a shower and then made my way to the store to do some major grocery shopping.
Before my groceries, I stopped by Borders and did waste a lot of time there trying to find stuff their computer said they had but was, for some annoying reason, just not there. I had a birthday coupon burning my pocket. I wanted either Placebo's new album or the re-issue of Morrissey's 'Maladjusted'. As much as I wished them to be, they were either hiding or misplaced at some other part of the store. Like, I found a CD in the comic book section lying there on top of some books. Of course it wasn't the one I wanted. I'm pretty stubborn when it comes to settling on something so I did my best detective work and scanned every inch of the media sections. Isn't it sad that stores are slimming down their CD sections, if not eliminating them? I was upset to witness LPs vanish (though I know they are still there—just impossible to find). Cassettes? Not so much. But CDs? CDs are the last physical format of music we'll be able to hold in our hands. It makes me very sad to watch them disappear too. That's why I buy what I like, when I can, now. Anyway, I never found either CD, left to get water at Whole Foods (the only thing I can afford there) and did my grocery shopping at Trader Joe's—all $107 worth. My cart was packed.
I had everything planned for the evening. As I got home I readily unpacked all my groceries and threw my frozen pizza in the oven. As that was baking (I kept time on my clock) I put away all my groceries. After all my bags were empty I noticed my milk was missing. The same milk that Joe (I made note of his nametag. Ironic name, huh?) asked me if I wanted bagged in plastic or not. I said "Yes." Was this my punishment? I freaking recycle! (Ugh!) I took my pizza out of the oven, let it cool before putting it back in. (My oven could keep it warm without burning it 'til I got back.) I had to drive all the way back to Traders and explain that my milk was missing.
I passed Joe but he was busy. I guess in these situations, people get all bitchy and mad and stuff. I'm not like that. I always start my statements (not complaints) with "um." I found the customer service station and made eye contact with the main guy there.
"Um, this never happened before here but Joe, the guy that bagged my groceries, didn't put the milk I bought in my cart," and I was showing him my longish receipt. I was pointing at "Milk Whole Gallon TJ's." (Thank goodness it wasn't labelled "Homo Milk.") He was nice about it and said to just grab a milk and carry it out. I always knew Traders would be cool in situations like this. But ooh that Joe! He was destroying my night of cool.
I drove back home with my cold milk in the passenger seat. I felt like I was reunited with my best friend. He didn't say much, but I knew he would do my body good when I got him home.
I ate my pizza, switched from shorts to jeans and headed out. I was looking at my bus schedule realizing that the bus I needed to get me close to Garfield was going to be at the bus stop in about 9 minutes. I started running the whole way (It's generally a 15-minute walk). What I love about running when I'm off work is not having to lug my backpack filled with junk. I also wear steel-tipped Doc Martins a lot to work, so I carry a lot of weight—much more than I should. I love it when I'm in my civilian clothes. I can run even that much more faster. Chucks are light and it's awesome not having anything else with me but my key, a 5 dollar bill, my Pitt ID, an iPod nano and my camera.
I made it to my bus stop in time. I guess. I didn't know if July 3 was considered a holiday. Buses run on a different schedule during the holidays. I had to wait (anyway) about 10 minutes for a bus to show. At least it gave me a chance to sweat in semi-private. I hate getting on the bus and sweating bullets. I always think that someone else mightthink that I'm on drugs or something.
Well, turns out I got to the show at Tweet Clothing just in time to see the last 3 minutes. The main act, The Everyday Visuals, were really good too! I wanted to get a CD of theirs but forgot to bring more money. I also knew ahead of time that Tweet accepts credit cards and I forgot about that before I headed out. I felt so bad and cheap. This really handsome, young guy that worked at the store asked if I wanted any help when I was browsing. I told him that I only had $5 with me but that I'd be back some other day. I know that may sound like a line but I meant it. I like supporting up-and-coming things and I was really liking their t-shirt designs.
From there I just slid outside the store hoping not to be noticed too much. I was late and poor. I spent the rest of my time poking around Garfield. There were pockets of cool people around, but of course none of them talk to me. I walked into what seemed be a gallery opening and was accosted by some guy with a ceramic money-filled mug asking me for a dollar. I suppose it was for the gallery and there was a band of sorts playing in the corner, but I know for a fact that galleries are free. They should have donation boxes which I do donate to, but to have someone asking upfront and in your face for a dollar was lame. I lied and said I just had my bus pass with me. Again, I slid out of there too.
So here I am back at my place. I can feel my leg muscles throbbing with aches like they usually do when I come home from work. I don't have any spectacular or exotic events to dish about thus far on my vacation. No hot dates, definitely no sexy time, no disco dancing nights but I did get together with my friend last night which was a treat. I told her of my vacation misadventures and caught her up on my life which isn't all that exciting. Well, except for the fact that I'm much happier. I think that in itself can be considered a good achievement; something to be proud of.
I'm going to paraphrase the "If life gives you lemons…" bit now with: If Joe fails to give you your milk, when you get it back… be good to yourself and make a milkshake.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
