"You're not from around here, are you?"
Amazing. Brilliant. Scintillating. It's like these people know, without being told, that I'm not an Arizona native. Could it be my broader than usual lexicon? My ability to form sentences without "like" separating all the important words? Nope. I "talk funny." Referring to my accent. Yes. I'm from Minnesota. Just like (not really, but they'll never consult a map so why bother) the people wearing deerstalker hats and puffy down coats in "Fargo!" How on earth did they guess? It's like they got that there ESPN! Gawd. Facepalm.
I'm so grouchy tonight. And snarky. I wasn't earlier. My mother and I went to the Desert Museum (haha--I almost typed "dessert museum" and that might have been a good day out too, but a girl can only dream because I've never heard of any such beast) in Tucson (about an hour and forty minute drive south and east of Phoenix), and we had SO much fun just kibbitzing and double-talking each other in circles. It's a "who's on first?" game with any word in conversation with homonyms or other easily accessible puns or plays on it. We talk about absolutely nothing for an hour, just jawing back and forth on a single verb phrase. Dorkiest thing I'll ever admit to in public. And it kills us. We almost pee our pants laughing. And anyone within earshot is I'm sure tempted to call the nice men in white coats to cart us away. Family keeps you humble.
We also had a VERY good dinner tonight, and I guess I'm accumulating all of the leftovers from every meal my mother and godmother eat, so my refrigerator has a metric ton of styrofoam-wearing entrees for my microwave to revive tomorrow and until the end of time. And the metric ton of alcohol that my BBW girls brought to the sex toy party I had on Sunday last week. One day I'll have to go a-grocery-ing again, but the harvest has been kind this weekend, so to speak, and so I'll have trouble just getting through everything.
And my Auntie Arlene might be able to get me a job working as someone in her law firm's gofer. I told her I wanted to do that, and she's going to make some calls. Maybe this will be my "devil wears prada" job. Maybe not. But it's exciting to think it could be. I hope my lawyer takes pity on a poor chubby undergrad.
I'm so grouchy tonight. And snarky. I wasn't earlier. My mother and I went to the Desert Museum (haha--I almost typed "dessert museum" and that might have been a good day out too, but a girl can only dream because I've never heard of any such beast) in Tucson (about an hour and forty minute drive south and east of Phoenix), and we had SO much fun just kibbitzing and double-talking each other in circles. It's a "who's on first?" game with any word in conversation with homonyms or other easily accessible puns or plays on it. We talk about absolutely nothing for an hour, just jawing back and forth on a single verb phrase. Dorkiest thing I'll ever admit to in public. And it kills us. We almost pee our pants laughing. And anyone within earshot is I'm sure tempted to call the nice men in white coats to cart us away. Family keeps you humble.
We also had a VERY good dinner tonight, and I guess I'm accumulating all of the leftovers from every meal my mother and godmother eat, so my refrigerator has a metric ton of styrofoam-wearing entrees for my microwave to revive tomorrow and until the end of time. And the metric ton of alcohol that my BBW girls brought to the sex toy party I had on Sunday last week. One day I'll have to go a-grocery-ing again, but the harvest has been kind this weekend, so to speak, and so I'll have trouble just getting through everything.
And my Auntie Arlene might be able to get me a job working as someone in her law firm's gofer. I told her I wanted to do that, and she's going to make some calls. Maybe this will be my "devil wears prada" job. Maybe not. But it's exciting to think it could be. I hope my lawyer takes pity on a poor chubby undergrad.