starbucks boy said yes. 

yes, he would be my date for the event. and he would be so happy about it. 

(or at least that's the insinuation that i concluded)

then he texted me and said that he couldn't make it. 

three hours before he was coming to pick me up. 

i've never felt more embarrassed in all my life. 

the embarrassment actually killed me. 

please visit my gravesite. 

hyacinths are my favorite. i mean, they were my favorite. 


i walked outside to get my mail. 

my 70-something-year-old neighbor flagged me down, asking me questions and pretending she couldn't hear me so that I would have to walk across the street and talk to her. 

[i promise, she does this. it's fake, i know it. I know she can hear me, i've caught her]

this time, after she went through the same 4 stories she always tells me, she also told me about how her ex-husband, whom she lives with and her ex-sister-in-law, who also lives with her (and yes, she refers to her as "my ex-sister-in-law") were laughing around the breakfast table because Miss Audrey fell off her toilet this morning.

She was wearing a bathing suit trying to go to the bathroom. As girls, you know how difficult this can be, and then she sat down on the toilet, and you know how slippery those silky suits are, and she just fell off. 

While trying to fix her hair, because she has a mirror directly facing her toilet, just for that reason. And she brought the mirror crashing down with her. 

So there she laid, on the floor, in a bathing suit, her hair awry, shards of mirror glass all around her, her dogs rushing to her side- licking her face trying to help, all to call out to her ex-husband of several decades to come pick her up off the ground. 

And I thought I had a bad day? 

{Also, Miss Audrey and I reached a new level of friendship with this descriptive story. I don't know how to feel about it]


today in the car, one of the kids asked me what a soul is. 

i really don't know how to answer that. 

luckily, before i could answer, she found a goldfish in her booster seat and instead cracked up that a goldfish was in her seat. 

i however ceased the find the humor in this, since her belief that a booster seat also serves the purpose of disposable trash can really brings out my gag reflex. 

after she yelled at me at least 4 times to turn around and look at this great treasure of a cracker that was found she then sighed and said "Miss Kelly, what's a rib?". 

the questions. 
they never stop. 


I asked my barista to be my date for a charity function that I was invited to. And I'm not quite sure, but I think that I was denied. By a barista. Awesome. 

Who's the charity case now?

[i use the term "my barista" very lightly]