Boyfriend and I went to Border’s the other night lacking any other activity to do past the 8 o’clock hour. Sometimes you’ve just got energy after dark, and you’ve got to use it. I was actually looking for the third book in the Millenium series, The Girl Who Kicked A Hornet’s Nest, but only found it in the exorbitantly-priced hardcover edition. No thanks, I’ll just get my dirty fingers all over Kate’s copy, if I don’t mind. But by the time I’d come to this conclusion I’d already decided I had to buy SOMETHING. Border’s is hurtin’, after all, and although I’m generally a Buy Local girl there is a soft spot in my heart for any book store still slinging lattes when all the other baristas have packed up and gone home for the night. Not that Borders’ coffee is any good, it’s just a principle thing.
So I managed to scrounge up a sweeeet little moleskin-rip-off “Piccadilly” journal that does a nice job of making me look hoity toity without costing me hoity toity prices. I bought a juicy pen at A.C. Moore the following day and now am fully equipped to write down my thoughts on a whim.
This proves 100% enjoyable for present-day-Audrey but totally confusing for future generations and/or dominant species’ who will wonder what the correlation is between Nat Turner/slave rebellion, fashion blogs in Portland, ME, and a litany of benefits crying out for pro-ice-cream-sandwich initiatives in every corner of my life. Seriously, let’s draw some ice cream sandwiches: they’re that good.
Wish I had pictures to go along with this rant, I think they would be be funnier than what you might be imagining in your head but I don’t want to discredit how funny what you might have up there could be… so for now, dear readers, think of the absence of pictorial content as a way of my saying: I trust you, you are hilarious.