America is very shiny after all. And glittery.
Mis amigos in shiny and glittery Albuquerque
Yesterday, I was being distracted by a pair of shiny pants at the mall (yes, have spent inordinate amounts of time at Starbucks and at the mall. Much more time than is decent...), and was giving them a proper feel, almost bringing them to my cheek.
Okay. I did bring them to my cheek, but just for a few seconds, and they really were some nice, soft pants.
A woman walked past me and said "Oh, nice top!" I was wearing a kaftan-like thing that is really meant for the beach, but that I have appropriated for everyday use, and like the socially awkward woman that I am, I looked at her, looked at my top, while holding the pants to my cheek, and answered: "Yes, it is." Because that is what my brain somehow elected as the appropriate response to a compliment.
I'm sure she feels good for having made the day of a mental patient on a day trip to the mall.
I have been having quite a few odd discussions with very random people. Like, with the woman who sold me my Birkenstocks about her work at the Library of Congress, like with the very pierced and tattooed fella who apparently was flirting with me (I was later told by the Mexican niece and nephew), like with a guy who was wanting to pluck my (I think rather non-existent) eyebrows with a strange looking string-apparatus, and like with the woman who though it was cute that I was taking pictures of my lattes.
I seem to have forgotten how much Americans like to talk and engage each other, and complete strangers.
Or maybe I'm just being my usual freak-magnet self? I'm pretty sure if I wasn't already married I would totally be going out with the tattoo-wonder. He was pretty cute in that inked, holey, punk way that I like, but I'm still glad I already have a cute, bearded, un-holey Hubby waiting for me in SA.
Other people's piercings can be dangerous, and I don't need any more hazards around. I already have me. Behind the wheel of my friend's car. Trying to drink water or extricate gum out of my bag while driving with my knees. Hazards aplenty.
Ag, just look at the pretty pictures. Apparently there never was a point to this, and there isn't one in sight either.
Unconventionally sad sunflower
Wires are pretty, neh?
They really are.
But not as pretty as flowers. Not nearly.
Have a good weekend y'all! I'm off to eat some Mexican food and drink some wine, and to chase it all with Starbucks.
But you already knew that.