Thursday, July 23, 2009

{clever title under construction} PROLOGUE

NPR did a short story this morning on a French woman who worked as a cashier in a grocery store to pay her way through college. Then afterward, when no jobs were available, stayed on. And on. And on. At age 29 she published her first book, titled something in French, about her observations of people's behavior, good and bad, as they came through her grocery line in a truthful, cynical, yet lighthearted way. It's since been translated into 16 languages and she's published a second book.

Now, I felt ripped off. I've been meaning to do the same thing. I've even blurbed a bit about those things here. But admittedly, she was a journalism student long before I began working in a grocery store, and she's long passed me as she thought of this years ago. Nonetheless.

I've been aching about it all day. My missed opportunity, thinking that could have been me! We're the same age! Well, actually she's older than me, but was my age when she published her first book, and she was probably a college student when I was ten, cuz I really don't know how old she is now...

I digress.

Anyway, I've decided to do it anyway. Sorry, that was 'anyway' twice.

Ahem. Anyhoo, I came to the realization that although she beat me to the bookbinder, she certainly is not the only person to work in a grocery store or as a cashier of any means, and she certainly isn't the only one to be bothered by other people's behavior. And since she is French, speaks and writes in French and observes other people in France, and French people are, well, French*, I figure I ought to take a bite out of American upper-middle class suburbia and put a real Real Housewives of Eastlake this-is-how-they-treat-the-grocery-clerk message out into the world.

Then perhaps I will randomly meet Miss Frenchie on a passenger train somewhere in a French countryside, seeing as how that seems to be what they have going for them most, aside from baguettes in bicycle baskets next to the ching-ching bells, and we can compare notes.

This so begins what I've been dictating in my head for many weeks. And while I'm at it, let me acknowledge my recent affinity for italics.

*Disclaimer: I'm only poking fun at French for the sake of poking fun at someone. I love Amelie, but I've never actually met a French person. If I had there'd be no reason for a disclaimer. hee hee.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009


its funny how people will jump through hoops when something is important to them, but barely nod their heads when something is not.

the weather has been odd lately. cold and cloudy, windy in the mornings. then the sun comes out around lunchtime for a beautiful afternoon, sometimes windy sometimes not. then by sunset the clouds roll in again for a gloomy end to the day.

we're faced with moving again. i mean, we knew it would happen eventually, but figured we could renew our lease another year if we wanted to give ourselves time to find a home to buy, something to make our own. looks like we will have to move before the end of the year regardless. apartment hunting again, and i hate it. there is a really nice, really spacious, and really cheap complex down the street overlooking the estuary. they will not allow pets over 25lbs. i wonder how they would like it if i told their fat asses they had to weigh less than 110 to live in their home? a very few people would fit that bill.

i found a beautiful new home in glendale, in the neighborhood we wanted to live in, nearly 2200 sq ft with a gorgeous kitchen for under $150,000. I can hardly find a 1000 sq ft apartment for that here.

i keep dreaming about falling in love. meeting someone, connecting with them. that fluttery squishy feeling you get when you meet someone new. they are never real people, no one i know in real life i mean. they often dont even have faces. just the symbols of people, i guess. the dreams are always quick, leaving me not remembering much but the feeling, and it seems that i always wake at the very moment i am making the concious admission that i am in love with that person. but i wake alone, hearing only the dog's tail wrapping against the door waiting to go out.

someone asked me the other day if i miss my husband when he is gone. i wish people would think before they speak.