At 10:00 a.m. this morning, I'm meeting with a school administrator for approval of my daughter's homecoming dress; they don't want trollops and tarts parading around the football field, so approval is necessary to avoid stirring up those high school "lusts of the flesh".
I'm pretty sure if a girl wore a potato sack there STILL would be a few stirrings.
Anyways………instead of returning home, I hit my local Starbucks to blog a bit. After trying unsuccessfully to login to my hotspot account because I don't have the monkey sense to establish a UNIVERSAL USER NAME AND DAGGUM PASSWORD, I called customer service, spoke to various people in various countries, only to realize it was a case-sensitive issue.
Soooo…after too much wasted time but finally securing login, I gained access to the world wide web, pulled up gmail and Typepad, ready to tackle both.
Then Charles snuck up on me. I've blogged about ol' Chas a few times, he's a once-in-a-while PENSIEVE commentor and his wife is one of my favorite peeps in the world.
He headed to his breakfast meeting and I returned attention to my Next Great Post*.
Then Stephanie and her darling pre-schooler, Emily Grace saw me. I don't really "know" Stephanie, but we've met often enough to exchange pleasantries, and her butterfly-adorned daughter HAD to tell me that she was having apple juice and something else in toddle-speak that exploded my heart though I have no idea what she said.
Returning again to my now-struggling Next Great Post, David & J.B. walk in. David is one of the guys preaching while our church is in search of a pastor (we've been without one for a few years) and I've attended a Precept study B.J. leads; we've met but don't know each other well. David is quite the jokester and looked over my shoulder to see "what games I was playing".
Me? Playing on-line games? I gave that up three years ago when blogging commenced! GAME.ON.BLAWG!! Forget Hearts or Spades or Solitare when there's
laundry and dusting and vacuuming blogging and Twittering and Facebooking to be done!
BRIEFLY I explained what I was working on, showed 'em my post which looks uber-spiritual with a big, ol' honking picture of my feet on it and we talked about freaky fet*shes and leper feet and about a book (?) B.J. is workin' on that discusses quite candidly (from what she told me) issues about s*x with Levitical perspective in mind. It appears God has something to say about s*x–a few somethings.
But that's another story.
Anywayssssssss….their friend arrived, they parted company and I was focused once again on a laptop screen.
It was at this point my friendly Starbucks barista got my attention and said, "Can I ask you a question…WHO ARE YOU?" 'cause he observed that "everyone" who walked in apparently knew me–that I was a "common denominator" in his words–but none of these people seemed to know each other.
I explained I was a ROCK STAR, how did HE not recognize me, and did he want an autograph?
It was then I noticed the big, round polka dot of caramel macchiato splashed on the center of my white camisole, smack dab in the center of my cornflower blue v-neck sweater, flashing like the nerd-alert neon sign it was for everyone to see who had stopped by to speak this morning.
Rock star ego leveled in an instant.