PSST... I'M NOT WEARING ANY PANTS!

That's not some sort of pick-up line. I really am not wearing pants, because I'm wearing a skirt. Har-dee-har-har.
These days, when one is forced to pick between corduroy pants (which I was dumb enough to choose this morning, nevermind that it was a light-khaki color), or shorts (which will showcase one's lovely untanned, stubbly thighs), a skirt seems to be the perfect choice, hands down. This particular model was purchased today at Hollister, my first purchase from there ever, I'm not ashamed to admit. Hell, I didn't have my first Abercrombie'd piece of clothing until I was in college. I'm not much of a label-hog, then again, I wouldn't turn down something just because it was manufactured by a bloated, over-trendy clothing company. My aesthetic towards clothing is pretty much the same as in music: if it looks/sounds good, then it's all good to me.

So speeding down the 480 is not the way to go for changing one's clothing, I found out. There's truckers abound, who naturally toot their blasted horn at you when they see a flash of underwear or the elderly couple who have to do a double-take and then almost run you off the road because they're not paying attention.

...you know what's the best? Homemade root beer floats. Remember those Kimber? Of course you do, we used to get them all the time at Shriver, even when it was freezing outside, and we had to walk to the damn place in pajama pants and flip flops. How I miss the college life.
Oh and yesterday I made pasta salad... that's right, the Kraft Pasta Salad in the Box. The pasta was a little undercooked and I was a bit too enthusiastic with the Italian dressing, but nevertheless, it was good. And this morning, I made biscuits, and had them with strawberry jam, just like Melanie used to make 'em.

[cue Barbra Streisand] Memories...