The fact remains
Seemingly insignificant things bring a lump to my throat. A chance viewing of the film that brought about all sorts of reminiscing, found flipping aimlessly through the channels this late afternoon. Even though I am not Russian. The discovery of jicamas in a town a few miles away, that's still sitting on my kitchen counter. I'm sure my roommates are wondering what the hell I'm up to, me, the non-chef. But even I've peeled a few potatoes in my day.

And last night, I had an overdose on a sweet, sweet powder that I had not touched since middle school. That's right, James and I thought it would be a sweet-ass idea to go on sugar shock with Pixie Stix and Boone's. I am now paying for all that sugary debauchery. Needless to say though... it was fun while it lasted.

Some people just don't fit with their given name; take, for example, my workshop professor Eric Goodman. He's a very cool guy, he's going on an assignment to Fiji this June. That's some people's dream right there (cough cough, me). But the fact remains, he does not look like an Eric. I've discussed this with a few people, and we've decided his name should be Robert. Someday, I'll take this up with him.

Also, I don't know what it is with people coming up to me and saying "OH MY GOD. YOU LOOK GREAT." Granted, I haven't seen them since a year ago, when I was pregnant. See, that would be the only reason I could think of for them to even say that. But then again, the fact remains, I wasn't. Pregnant, that is. And I don't plan on being in the family way until I've peed on some library books, "blessed" a few alleyways, streaked at an outdoor concert, deflowered a couple of freshmen and seen the white, white cliffs of Dover. Something tells me this will be a long time coming. So to speak.