- The other day I found a pack of cigarettes in the stairwell of my apartment complex. Being the helpful, health conscientious person that I am, I threw the pack and the lighter all the way down to the bottom of the stairs (smoking kills, you know?). The next evening, the same lighter and what I am assuming was the same pack of cigarettes, was in the same spot, only this time it was accompanied by a four-pack of empty white zin bottles. What kills me about this is that I respected (respected them, you know, because they tracked down their cigs in a sketchy apartment complex stairwell) the person behind the smokes, UNTIL I saw the empty white zin bottles. Who drinks that shit?
- I spent an inordinate amount of time watching the Women's Final Four this year (SHOUT OUT: BRITTON BENNETT) and found myself torn between who I was 10 years ago and who I am today. Ten years ago, I was truly interested in women's basketball. Today, it was simply a tad more entertaining than watching Jim Calhoun, the accountant-look-alike, coach his sub-par team to a national championship. Will I ever be able to talk to young LC and tell her not record (VHS-style) women's basketball games and go back and study them...and then talk about it publicly? Or will I simply carry around that shame forever?
- Russellville, Arkansas is now home to a TJ Maxx, I feel like I don't even know myself any more.
Love. All of it.
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