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Life's Not the French Riviera

Every time i have something to seriously write, i am not near a computer. apparently i can send posts to my blog via my cellular device, but i am not sure if i am ready for that technological freedom. there is just something about the doogie houser/carrie bradshaw traditional "i am at a computer putting down all my thoughts" situation that makes blogging more satisfying. watch. tomorrow i'll be sending updates every minute via the cell. lets discuss pulling a detour. yesterday in barnes and noble i was walking along with my headphones on through the stacks of books. i had my head down looking at my playlist when i recognized a pair of tan, peep toe shoes with a dark brown patent leather lining. 'i know these shoes' i thought 'omg its carol' carol was the woman who trained me here at my new office. now, its not that carol isn't nice with her short, obviously dyed red hair, sweater tied around neck, tortoise framed glasses and awkward shaped body, its just that i had nothing to say to carol and she is the type of person to want to "catch up" and i was not about to "catch up with carol" - which by the way, is a great title for a talk show. i was actually impressed with carol, that she didn't have her reebok's on with her skirt. because amid the sea of stark white sneakers and slacks, i spotted her shoes. thank goodness. there would've been no detour and it would've been all catching up with carol. and if you read yesterday's blog, you would know that right before i detoured carol i was visited by a hobbit sluping out of a yellow plastic bag. i would've needed a lunch hour for the lunch hour (you know how those people say "i need a vacation after my vacation! ah teehee" NO.) more later...

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