Crazy Stuff

picture found here

Some days I have thoughts that are completely irrational.

Like last Wednesday morning when I was getting ready to go running and I noticed a pair of white socks in the back of my drawer. I started to put them on and then I thought, what if I am in some sort of accident and they can't identify me? Allen would see my socks and say, "No, that's not my wife. She never wears white socks." Then I would be like Amelia Earhart, mysteriously gone forever with no explanation. So I put on some brown striped socks instead.

Once when I was washing the dishes I realized that I was washing all of the spoons first and I worried that the forks and knives might get jealous. So I washed them in a pattern: fork, knife, fork, knife, until all I had left were one fork, one knife and two spoons. I washed the spoons last to make amends with the forks and knives. I think we ended on good terms.

Sometimes when I come to a red light I move my mouth so it looks like I'm talking to someone in the backseat in case the person in the car next to me is watching. I'll even throw in a fake laugh so it looks like we're having a really great conversation. I do this because I don't want the complete stranger in the car next to me to look over and think that I'm boring, just sitting there waiting for the light to change.

I have decided that irrational thoughts make life much more exciting.

Superpowers

Did I ever tell you about the time that I busted someone's windshield into a brilliant spiderweb of cracked glass with my forehead?

That was awesome.

Shout Out!

A friend called last week to ask me, "Do you know of any good dentists in the area?" And yes, I most certainly do. I get calls like this occasionally and am always glad to share.

Today someone asked if I had a hair stylist that I like. Oh, yes, yes, yes. Not just like, but love.

So, my friends, today I present you with a list of people/places/services that I would gladly recommend. You know, just in case you were wondering. And for those of you who don't live near me, scroll down to see some places that I love on the www.

For locals:

The BEST dentist's office (even the littlest kids love going for check-ups!) is Christiansen Dental. They do great, quality work and are friendly, personable and caring. Case in point: Dr. C heard about my broken leg incident and called to see how I was doing. What does that have to do with my teeth? Nothing! But he's a genuinely nice guy who cares about his patients - and makes visits to the dentist a stress-free, even pleasant experience.

Need car repairs? Here's a trustworthy auto repair shop: Mitchell's Garage. I can't remember who recommended this place to us but we have been happy with all of the work we've had done on our vehicles there. Finding a repair shop you can trust is a big deal and we have come to trust the guys here at Mitchell's.

Want to get a haircut? Call Raylene at David Douglas Salon. All of the girls in our family go to her and we always leave happy. She makes you feel like a beauty queen or rock star or whatever place in between you're comfortable with. Trust me, you'll love her.

The best place for dessert on a Saturday night is Gloria's Little Italy - hands down! Why Saturday night? Because all of their delectable, authentic Italian desserts (made fresh daily!) are half-priced on Saturday nights since they are closed on Sundays. And if you don't like layers of flaky filo dough, rich Italian cream and hazelnut then I still have one word for you: Gelato.

How long has it been since you've had family pictures taken? You need to call Jason at Backroads Photography. Let's put it this way: I have lots of kids and he can make them all smile. At the same time! Plus, he makes us look really good. Maybe you just need some new decorative photos to adorn your home? He's got those, too. Check him out.

Any questions? Leave me a comment or send me an email (gerbdonna at gmail).

On the internets (coincidentally, all free stuff):

Need to wish someone a happy birthday? Issue a formal apology? Send a note of thanks? Check out the Bureau of Communication. I'm a lover of handwritten notes, but if you've got to send an email, this is the way to go. It's just quirky enough to make it fun.

Have you ever been a bit leery of letting your kids watch a certain movie because you're not sure what exactly to expect? Then Kids in Mind is the place you seek. It's almost humorous how detailed they are in their descriptions of every teeny little thing that could be found offensive or off-color.

As a service to busy kidnappers, joshuarey.com offers a ransom note generator. Just type in your text, press enter and you have a lovely ransom note from letters cut out of magazines and newspapers. Brilliant.

Does someone you know own an Easy Bake oven? Then you need this website. Instead of buying all of those expensive mixes at the store, Budget101 has a whole plethora of mini-sized recipes you can make from ingredients in your pantry. And as a bonus: these taste better than the packaged mixes, too. Who knew you could cook such tasty little treats with a light bulb?


*No one asked me to write this post or compensated me in any way. I just really, really love these people/places/services and think they deserve a shout-out. Plus I've seen these kind of disclaimers on other blogs and I thought it would make me look cool. Holla!

My Neighbors Would Probably Hate Me If They Knew

photo from maps.google.com

Tomorrow is voting day. I'm not generally too political, but I do have a strong opinion on my city's proposition this time around.

Signs started showing up around my neighborhood in support of our city's Proposition 1 almost a month ago. Like, seriously, all over my neighborhood. I had never heard of Proposition 1 so I looked it up in order to make an informed vote. The gist of it is this: my city would like to build a new, updated recreation center to replace 3 existing facilities; the much older existing recreation center, senior center and the old armory where community classes and events occur.

And here's my deal. I am not against a new recreation center. But I will NOT be voting for it, and here are my reasons why:

1) I am against raising property taxes. We already had our property taxes raised not too many years back in order to build a newer public library. Here is the information sent to me by the city regarding the increase in property taxes I can expect if this Proposition is passed:

The owner of an average $195,000 home would pay $2.61 more per month, or $31.32 more per year, in property tax. Together with the portion of property taxes that is currently paying for the library bond, that would come to $6.37 per month or $76.45 per year. (In three years, after the library bond is paid off, the full $76.45 would go towards paying for the recreation center for the remaining 17 years of the bond.)

So, if I understand this correctly, they are going to continue charging us (via property taxes) the same money I am paying for the library bond after it is paid off in 3 years but use that money instead for the new recreation center in addition to the extra $30 or so per year that the vote would approve.

What are they going to build after the recreation center? All I see is a continued increase in my property taxes with no end in sight. I'm not cool with that. Once the library bond is paid off, that should be the end of that tax. It's not right to tack that existing expense on to a new project.

2) I am irritated that the location of the new recreation center (the baseball fields for my kids' high school) is already being cleared out for building. The new ball fields are already being set up just down the street from my house as if the vote has already been won and the bond approved. Sort of makes me feel like my vote isn't going to matter since they've already got things in the works. That doesn't seem right to me.

3) I think that if property owners are the ones who will be paying for this new recreation center, we should be the only ones who get to vote for or against it. I don't understand how it is fair for those who will not be taxed (non-property owners) to be allowed to vote in favor of this. Basically anyone who is registered to vote can approve an increase in my taxes while they get to enjoy the new recreation center without having to pay for the bond. In addition, I would be even happier with this if only those who approve of the bond are charged for it. If they don't get enough votes to collect the money that is needed, then too bad.

4) My family would not use the new facility. The only thing my family does through the city's recreation center is take swimming lessons at the city's outdoor pool and it is more than adequate.


I would love to hear your opinions on this, especially if you live in my city.

Don't forget to vote tomorrow!

5 Minutes

I have 5 minutes before this day is over.

I said I would post everyday this month, and I'm a woman of my word. But I have no ideas.

I learned to do "free-writes" in some English class a long time ago, which is where you just write whatever pops into your head for a set amount of time. This is a free-write...

Yesterday we poured 6 yards of concrete around the borders of our property. I helped with setting the forms

(forms set, before concrete)

and doing the finish work once the "big, swirly truck" (as ElemenoB so articulately named it) came and dumped the concrete for us.


We were out there all day. When I am taught to do something for the first time, I am something of a perfectionist. Allen kept telling me I needed to think quantity, not quality, but I couldn't help myself. It was like smacking down a pile of mud with a trowel and then frosting a cake, nice and smooth. And it seemed to stay pretty mushy for quite awhile so I kept taking my sweet time... until it came down to the wire. Then the concrete was hardening before I could get to it. I had to spray it down and exert more elbow grease to get those sections pretty. By the time we were finished my whole body ached. Lesson learned: I would never choose to have a profession like concrete masonry. But when I went out this morning to see how everything set up overnight, I was quite impressed with myself.

(after)

I own this stretch of footings, as well as some along the west side.

I am woman! (rawr.)

I Have A Comment

My blog address is GerbsRandomThoughts, so today that's what you're going to get.

Here's the deal. Over 2 years and 404 posts ago, I started writing this blog. Initially it was because I love to write and I loved the idea of others wanting to read what I had to write. Actually, I still write for those very reasons but now there is more.

Like an actor on the stage loves applause, a blogger on the internet loves comments. And today I propose that it we start leaving them more often.

Not necessarily always "Hey, great job!" kind of comments every time, and not necessarily a long diatribe of opinion, either. It's just nice to know that someone read a post and left a comment to show they were there.

I sort of wonder - is there some kind of blog etiquette that I am unaware of regarding comments? If you have never been to the person's blog before and read it for the first time and never come back again, is it okay for you to comment? I say yes. Do you have to have read a person's blog for a specific amount of time before it is okay to come out of "blog-stalking/lurking" and leave a comment? I don't think so.

Here's what I think. Everyone likes comments. Think about it. Have you ever read a blog or heard a conversation where someone says something like, "And then this person I have NEVER EVEN HEARD OF BEFORE had the GALL to leave a comment on my BLOG! Can you even believe that?!" No, it is more likely you will read or hear something about how everyone loves being acknowledged. Unless I am unaware of some set of rules out there in blog land regarding the who/why/where/when and how of proper commenting, I am going to assume that comments are a good, positive, always welcome thing.

(Unless you're a commenter who says things like, "Your kids are hideously ugly and I am hiding in your bushes." In that case, my neighborhood watch program is in full force, I own 23 guns and I'm a quadruple black belt in karate. Plus you're wrong about my kids.)

So, here's the deal. I'm throwing down the gauntlet. Let's try a little experiment.

For the next day or 2 days or week or rest of your life (you set your own time limit) let's leave comments on all of the posts we read. Really. Every.One. Make your presence known! Leave happy, kind, polite, grateful and supportive comments when you read what someone took the time to write. I'm not saying you have to agree with everyone... because wouldn't life be boring if we all agreed with each other all the time? But I bet it would make someone's day if they got a slew of unexpected comments on a post. Or even just one unexpected comment. Don't you think?

Come on... let's spread some internet sunshine. Are you with me?

Heartstrings

Photo from amisimms.net

I am often overwhelmed at the continuous string of terrible, tragic stories of things that are going on in the world. Yet, when I look for the good that can come about as a result of these, I am buoyed up with hope.

Like a quilt is tied together with bits of string or yarn, I believe that our lives are tied together with heartstrings.

When we hear of a tragedy in the community, our heartstrings call us to action.

When we find that a friend has suffered a death in the family, our heartstrings bring to mind the ways we can offer comfort.

When someone we know tells us of their child's successes or failures, our heartstrings make us want to cheer them on.

When we learn of a stranger's struggle over a personal loss, our heartstrings evoke sympathy.

When we read about the homesickness and heartache (but also happiness and hope) of a young neighbor who is serving the people of a foreign country, our heartstrings bring emotions close to the surface.

When we learn of unrealized dreams, lost hope or broken faith, our heartstrings can cause an incurable aching which prompts us to help where we can.

My personal definition for heartstrings would be: the love for humanity that binds the deepest love and emotion in our hearts to each other.

Much like twin siblings seem to forge an unbreakable bond in utero, I believe that all of us, as human beings who share this planet with each other, as imperfect individuals who were all created by the same loving Father, have an inherent connection which defies definition.

And I think that if we could learn to recognize those pulls on our heartstrings - and to act upon them - it would be a beautiful thing.

Getting In Shape

photo from commons.wikimedia.org

I dusted off my rollerskates the other day and went for a little spin. I am embarrassed to say that it was roughly 3 miles round-trip and I could barely make it back home. I thought to myself (as I attempted to keep up with my husband - who was running well ahead of me)... I need to eat better. I need to exercise more. I am out of shape.

And then I thought about that phrase: Out Of Shape. What the heck does that mean, anyway? Out of what shape? What shape am I supposed to be, and who decides? Am I a rectangle? Square? Circle? I started looking at others that I passed as I rolled on (wheezing) by. What shape were they in? Triangle? Octagon? None of these shapes seemed to fit.

And then - it came to me... the kind shape I wanted to be in. A heart! This would this require a different kind of change. Not a change in what I ate, but a change in who I was. I could be more kind towards others. Less judgmental. I could look for opportunities to do nice things for my neighbors, friends and family - even perfect strangers! I could look at others and try to see their potential and worth... no matter what their shape. Maybe then I could be a heart.

Or a star! I always wanted to be a star. Someone that others could look up to. Not afraid to stand out; a bright, shining beacon of light in a sea of darkness. A luminous guide for those who need help finding their way. I would love to be in star shape.

Well-rounded like a circle?

Sharp-looking like a triangle?

I decided I wasn't 'out of shape' after all. I think I could make the best of whatever shape I was labeled as or determined to be.

I am in shape.

Car Lots Are Exhausting

Photo from photobucket.com

Shopping for a new (used) car is exhausting.

(Get it? Exhausting? Sorry. The heat is getting to me... it makes my brain go goofy.)

The summer sun reflects off of the asphalt (which looks like midnight but feels like purgatory), beats relentlessly down on my face and back, and I begin to melt.

The names of various makes and models and acronyms (like SE, LE and GX... what?) get all jumbled up in my female brain. Can't we just call them what they are? The white car with 4 doors. The silver car with a stick shift. The gold car with the sweaty leather seats.

The multiple numbers representing mileage and price and things I don't understand (like engine size) float in a sea of chaos and confusion in my head. Can't they just sell quality vehicles for what they're really worth so we don't have to worry about purchasing an overpriced lemon?

(However, I will gladly purchase an overpriced lemonade. Two, please.)

I miss our little peely-paint Neon who served us so well for almost 15 years.

You cursed car lots! Look what you've done! I'm melting! Melllllllting! Oh, what a world! What a world!

The Old Barn

It doesn't look like much from far away. The aging, dilapidated barn sits nestled among green fields and small creeks and ponds with only horses and mosquitoes for company. At first glance it appears to be a ramshackle sort of place with broken windows and cobwebbed beams.


Yet, for my mother-in-law, it stores a wealth of memories and stories from her childhood years. This place is all that is left of the dairy farm where she grew up in Afton, Wyoming.


As we wandered through the old barn, listening to mom's recollections of years past, I felt a melancholy kind of sadness come over me. I could picture the barn as it had been back in its prime and wondered how it had come to be the way it was now, broken and in disrepair. It got me thinking about people.


Like the barn, we all start off sturdy and clean with a new coat of paint. As we face life's storms the paint slowly peels and cracks. Windows break. Grime accumulates. Beams and boards warp. And before we know it we are only a shell of our former selves, something that no sandpaper or even a fresh coat of paint can repair.

When others look at us, do they see what's really still there?


Do they look for the story behind each bent nail and loose floorboard or do they only notice the wear and tear, not realizing that it is simply evidence of something more?

Do others notice the beauty of the places where the cracks in the walls and shattered windows have allowed light to shine through?


If we could, what would we choose? To look as striking and solid as we did in our prime, never having to endure any of the pounding hail or lightning strikes that life throws at us - or to tolerate various storms and allow some of life's experience to show through in these bodies that house the person who we truly have become through it all?


At the end of my life I hope I'm like the run-down old barn. Perhaps weather beaten and warped, but well loved because of the experiences and interactions that have made me that way.


And every last measure of who I am bursting with stories of a life lived to the fullest.

If I Should Wake Before I Die

Photo from cdowk.org

Have you ever watched Little House on the Prairie?

One of my favorite episodes shares the title of this post (yes, I totally plagiarized it, but look, now I'm giving credit where it's due). The premise is that Miss Amy, one of the elderly residents of Walnut Grove, decides to stage her own funeral (with the reluctant help of the Ingalls family and Doc Baker) in order to get her family to pay her a visit. And it works. Not only is she able to attend her own wake, she is able to overhear many fond memories and thoughts in her behalf. When Miss Amy finally reveals to her children that she is, in fact, alive and well - they are upset with her. What happens next is the part that really gets me thinking.

Miss Amy's daughter asks her, How could you do it? How could you let them tell us you were dead? And then her son adds, You had no right, Mother!

Here is Miss Amy's reply:
Rights? You're talking about rights? Whose rights? I've got a right to see my own children and grandchildren. It comes before anything else! And you ask how I could do it. Well, it isn't hard when you've tried everything else, when you're so hungry for the sight and feel of your family. You can't sleep at night thinking of them, and when it comes to you, the one thing that will bring them to you is your own wake...well, it isn't hard to do at all. Sean, I heard you say it. "Why is it," you said, "you have to wait until they're gone before you know what they mean to you"? Well, you mean everything to me, you three. 80 years old, and I don't have many birthdays left. Maybe...maybe not even one. And when you think of that, you have...you have to be foolish.

Every year when Memorial Day weekend rolls around, I think of this episode.

I think of my Dad's funeral and what a remarkable gathering it was.

I think of how much he would have loved being there, reminiscing with old friends, laughing over memories of days past, hearing about how much his friendship and kindness had influenced others.

And, like Miss Amy, I wonder - why do we wait? Why do we hold back and not let others know how great we think they are or how much we love them and treasure the times we've shared? Why don't we make time to enjoy these relationships while those we care for are still around to enjoy them with us? Why should we wait until a funeral to really come to understand and express how much someone means to us?

We shouldn't.

I think Miss Amy was on to something.

Thinking Too Much

(photo from softpedia.com)

I am sitting here on my bed watching the fat, lazy flakes of snow swirling around as the frigid wind catches them and takes them on a roller-coaster ride. It makes me think.

A thought can get trapped in my brain and swirl around in there, growing larger as more ideas attach to it. I can almost feel some thoughts as they accumulate and grow heavier, taking up more space than I want them to.

Here is a recent example which grew increasingly larger over a few days' time...

I started with this thought: If I could have or do or be anything for an entire day, anything I wanted, what would I choose? Would I want time to myself or would I choose to have/do/be with others? Should I choose something selfish or something that would benefit those around me?

And then it grew: What if it was for a week? A month? A year? Would my choices be any different?

And turned into this: How about if it was for the rest of my life?

Which brought on this conclusion: Shouldn't that be what I'm choosing right now? Am I?

Sometimes I just think that I think too much.

Onion, Where Art Thou?

Today my fridge has a distinct onion smell
Yet nary an onion is there.
What could be causing this lingering scent?
Is there a ghost onion somewhere?

I searched and I sniffed and I shifted some bowls
Not a scallion came into sight!
Perhaps I'll bake cookies, put them in the fridge
And hope it smells better tonight.

Like The Song Says...

There is sunshine in my soul today!

Do you know why? Because every moment of every day in my life is a choice.

I choose how I react to every single thing that life throws at me. I can choose to make the best or worst of any situation. No one else chooses for me. I choose. It's all up to me.

It's kind of like having a choice to be one of the Seven Dwarfs each time a new situation presents itself. I can be Grumpy. I can be Dopey, Sleepy, Bashful, Doc, or Sneezy... (OK, maybe this isn't working out like I was thinking originally.) Well, anyway - the point is: I choose to be Happy!

When the sun is shining, I choose to soak in its warmth.

When the storm clouds gather, I choose to marvel in their swirling, ominous beauty.

And when the rain falls, I choose to dance.

I choose.

And for all of you? I hope you choose sunshine.

Don't You Want To Lick The Bowl?

A friend sent me an email recently detailing a new restaurant that I think would become BIG if brought to the states.

It's called "Modern Toilet".
The seats are made from toilet bowls, the tables are glass-topped sinks.

The food is served in toilet bowls.

And the final course, served in mini-urinals, looks mighty tasty.

Anyone for dessert?

Smokin' Deals!

I am the queen.

The queen of bargain shopping. Pinching pennies. Purchasing items at hot, smoking steals of deals... whether I need them or not.

Take yesterday for instance.

I had an hour to kill between a doctor's appointment and the time for Princess' kindergarten to start so I decided to pick up a few things at the grocery store.

After finding the items I needed, I went in search of the things I could not live without - simply because their price would be too good to pass up.

My first find was the Little Smokies. Did I need them? Of course not. Does anyone ever really need Little Smokies? But when they are marked at 2/$3.00 and have a coupon for '$1 off the purchase of 2' attached... and I find I have 2 other coupons for 40 cents off each package... 60 cents each? Get in the cart.

The next steal I found was fruit snacks. A whole wall of them! I held back and only purchased 6 boxes at 50 cents apiece since they expire at the end of the month. But who can resist putting Barbie fruit snacks in their 15-year-old son's lunchbag? (Not me.)

My most amazing deal of the day was the Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls (with cream cheese frosting!). As a do-it-from-scratcher I tend to avoid these. But I couldn't say no to NINETEEN CENTS per tube! They expire on Saturday, but we could TOTALLY eat these by then! I bought the remaining 6 packages.

As I headed to the front of the store to pay (next to nothing!) for my cart full of groceries (that I didn't need) I was elated as I calculated my savings in my mind.

I happened to be in the drink aisle and spotted my guilty pleasure... at $1.29 a bottle.

Not such a bargain.

But with all the cash I'd saved (on things I didn't need) I decided a celebration was in order.

Here's to bargain shopping!

Melancholy Day

I planned to write about why I'm feeling melancholy today.

Then I started thinking about the word melancholy and how much I like the way it sounds.

Melancholy. Melancholy, melancholy.

It just rolls off the tongue very nicely. Try it...

Melancholy.

Melancholy, melancholy, melancholy, melancholy.

Have you ever said a word so many times that you start to wonder if you're even saying it correctly anymore?

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

Melancholy.

(Am I saying it the right way anymore?)

And then I started thinking about what a funny word melancholy is.

Melon + Collie = Melancholy

Yet it has nothing to do with melons or collies.

I wondered, if melancholy were a color, would it be a shade of orangey-peach?

Or blue?

Melancholy.

And then I forgot why I was feeling melancholy.

But I still like the word.

Even if I don't like watermelons or collies.




Melancholy.

Come Again

I looked out the window from the comfort of my couch and saw that my small corner of the world had transformed from a dry and blustery winter day to a thing of rain-soaked beauty.

The most immediate plan to form in my mind was to run outside (still in my church clothes, no less) and become soaked to the skin - letting the water run down my upturned face as I spun in circles, arms outstretched, welcoming this gift from the heavens. I had a fleeting moment of giddy anticipation...

...until I remembered that it is only 36 degrees outside. And that I am a major wimp when it comes to cold.

Oh, Spring, where art thou?!

And so I mouthed these words to the overcast skies:

raincheck

Look At Me

ElemenoB and Thumbelina joined me for my bi-monthly all-day marathon grocery shopping trip last Saturday. As we were leaving the third store on our route ElemenoB made an interesting observation:

"People at the store just look at each others grocery carts when they walk past. Nobody looks at anybody's face."

I had never really thought about that before, but decided to see for myself if it was true in the next supermarket. Sure enough, not one person with a shopping cart looked at me. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. So I decided to do something about it at our last stop.

Let's call it an experiment in human nature.

From the time we left the car, I looked into the face of every person who passed me.

"Hello there!" I said to the cart-collector in the parking lot.

I got one of those slight-upwards-nod-of-the-head movements in return.

"Welcome to Walmart," the door-greeter said in his monotone, I-hate-my-job voice.

"Thanks! I LOVE shopping here!" I replied, which was a little bit of a lie, but it solicited a friendly half-wave as I continued walking. So I think it was worth it.

"How are you today?" I asked an older gentleman in passing in the produce section.

"Very well, thank you. You have a good day!" he replied.

This was fun.

Eye contact, smiles, and an occasional word met every shopper who passed my cart.

In frozen foods, a twenty-something scanned the Bagel Bites.

"Hi!" I called to her with a smile on my face.

She looked behind her. Nobody there. She looked back at me.

"Um, hi." she answered, closing the freezer and avoiding eye contact, as she pushed her cart past me.

No Bagel Bites today, apparently.

In the peanut butter aisle I passed a woman dressed in her Sunday best.

"I love your dress!" I exclaimed.

She looked at my cart.

"That's a lot of peanut butter."

"Yes," I replied, "I have a lot of kids and they all love peanut butter."

"Hmmm. Have a good one." she said as she continued down the aisle.

"You too!" I called after her.

In the dairy section I encountered my toughest case. Her hair was 3 shades of purple along with some of (what I assumed was) her natural brown. One colorful, glittery eye peeked out from behind her long bangs and I couldn't count all of her facial piercings. She was perusing the many varieties of yogurt.

"Hello," I said, looking her in the (one) eye.

She continued perusing. Yoplait or Dannon? Mountain Dairy or Great Value?

"I really like Mountain Dairy," I offered.

She went back to Yoplait. Ignoring me.

Should I give up? I thought to myself.

I am not a quitter.

"Have you ever tried this kind before?" I asked, holding up some Dannon.

She turned and looked me square in the eye.

She pulled her headphones out of her ears.

"Were you saying something to me?" she asked.

"Oh, I didn't realize you had headphones in," I answered, slightly embarrassed. "I was just saying hello. You know, making friendly conversation. Nothing important. Sorry to bother you."

"Hey, lady," she called to me as I walked away.

I turned. "Yeah?"

"Hello. And I like your shoes."

I looked at my shoes, then back up at her. "Thanks."

"No problem. You have a good one, ok?" she said with a smile.

"Yeah, you too." I responded.

Here I was, trying to see how others would respond to me, and this young woman's smile made my day.

Happiness can come in the most unexpected packages.

photo from personalnewtrition.com

Duct Tape, I Love You

To The Person Who Came Up With This Genius Idea,

Thank you.

I wish I had come up with this myself! Of course, I assume it counts as defacing public property or something of that sort, so in that regard I am glad it was you and not me.

But seriously - thanks for putting a smile on my face.

This was just what I needed on Monday.

Sincerely,
Gerb