Fashion alert

My pants are sticking to my wool socks and I LOOK TOTALLY STUPID.

What I did while I waited for the bus this morning

I made up a song (more like a rap) whose lyrics were:

2-11-50. 0 0 647. 1. 5. 1. 8.

I'll rap it for you sometime, if you ask. And I'll also rap it in my head, while tapping my foot, the next time the public library's website asks me for my library card number. Cuz that's what it is.

There was this one time...

...when my neighbor and I planned to put on a show centered around Mariah Carey's Daydream album.



The plan was: we'd play the CD. One of us would pretend to hold a microphone and sing along. The other would dance her little heart out, using the stairs liberally as a prop.

We'd do this for each of the 12 songs on the album.

Our parents would watch each number with delight. The best-spent hour of their lives.

But then I realized that there were some flaws in our plan:

1. Our dancing wasn't that good.
2. Neither was our singing.
3. Nobody would be interested in our ill-rehearsed show.

So I called it off.

My neighbor's name was Michelle Farmer, but we secretly called her Michelle Fahma because her parents were from England and that was how they said their last name. After my dad met Mr. Farmer, he reported this conversation to us:

Mr. Farmer: "I'm ____ Fahma." [I don't remember his first name. I was 9ish.]
My dad: "Fahma?"
Mr. Farmer: "No, FAHMA."
My dad: "Fahma?"

I wish there were a punctuation mark between "!" and "."

Maybe it would look a little something like this:









.

Then when someone sends me an email that says "I'll see what I can do" in response to a no-big-deal request, I could reply without seeming overly excited or overly ungrateful.

I could be like, "Thank you " instead of "Thank you!" or "Thank you."

You see how much better that is?