The license plate said "Fresh" and there were dice in the mirror.

Last night I had a little brush with the rich and famous at the Jefferson Hotel. I was working at the after party for A Midsummer Night's Dream, put on by the symphony, ballet, and opera. Uncle Phil and Aunt Vivian from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air were the narrators for the performance, which is hilarious, and were both at the party. Uncle Phil and I are pretty much best friends now. I mean, he did ask me where the restrooms were, after all.

Where a Kid Can Be a Kid

Last night Justin took me on a date to Chuck E. Cheese's. It was pretty exciting. After eating a whole bunch of pizza and drinking soda out of kid-sized cups we headed over to the games. Did some ski ball, knocked over some clowns, raced frogs, flipped coins at dinosaurs. Afterwards we counted up our valuable tickets and headed for the prize desk. It took a lot of deliberation, but we finally left with me wearing a purple bracelet that resembles a Koosh ball and Justin with a magnetic Chuck E. Cheese pin that lights up. The date concluded most appropriately with ice cream sundaes at Friendly's.

W. Franklin St.

During my lunch break today I took a walk down W. Franklin. It was amazing. The sun was out, trees were green, buildings were neat. A lot of it was through VCU territory, and it was nice to see the different department buildings, converted from old houses. African American studies, art history, politics and government, psychology. All kinds of neat ideas and things are being said and written and read and thought about on that street. And I saw a student wearing a black punk rock shirt and denim shorts, carrying a brief case in this left hand.

From Work

I've been listening to this. You should, too.

My lunch break was longer than usual because I couldn't stop looking at these.

Sometimes I admire my own handwriting.

I like names with the middle initial B. Especially when the last name could be an adjective. Like, Johnny B. Goode, or Freida B. Saine, or Skye B. Gray.

Ways my life isn't like movies/tv/teen magazines made me think it would be:

My high school didn't really have lockers. I feel like that knocks out whole genres right there.

I've never been to a pool party.

I haven't fallen in love at first sight.

Not one of my friends drives a convertible.

I never went to a Greek party in college.

My friends and I have never had a regular burger joint to hang out in.

Road trips never seem to live up to all the hype.

I never went in a boy's dorm room.

Friends don't climb through my bedroom window.

Reading Again

I have, for the past several months, been on a somewhat involuntary reading hiatus. When I flew home for Thanksgiving I was reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera. [As an aside, I accidentally hit the paste shortcut instead of the italics shortcut, and this appeared: Cheese Ghostkersandwich.] I was enjoying the book, but the chapters are very long and I hate to stop in the middle of a chapter, so after the plane ride the book was set aside for a while. Then the while got longer. And I also hate to quit reading a book after I've started, so I was unwilling to start something else that might be a faster or easier read. So I didn't read at all, and instead stuck to crosswords and sudokus to fill my spare time. This whole time I was a little sad about how I couldn't get myself to read for fun. I even have a stack of New Yorkers I haven't looked at yet. The worst part is when I tell someone I want to go to library school. "Oh?!" they say. "You must really love to read then." "Er...um...yeah..." I respond as I shuffle my feet and look away. I mean, librarians don't stop reading for four months straight!

So, the good news is, I have ended my readers block. At least I hope so. I have, reluctantly, given up on Marquez for now, though I plan to finish the book some day. A friend gave me The Jane Austen Book Club to read on my recent plane ride, and I just finished it. It was fun and light- the perfect read to get me back in the swing of things. Now I am reading J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey. I'm pretty excited about it.

Confession

Sometimes I shave my legs just because I worry I might get into a car accident and I'm embarrassed about what the emergency medical people will think when they have to cut my pants off.

another one

I saw another awesome old man last weekend when I was in Tacoma. He was sitting at a high table in the crowded cafe of a fancy grocery store looking at a book about trains. He wore a fisherman's hat covered in various colorful pins. And best of all, he was playing with a yo-yo.