Two Days until the Road Trip of the Living Dead!
I'm in countdown mode for the fact gathering mission, also known as the Road Trip of the Living Dead. My goal is to create a traceable route for readers, and then pair up real circus side-show roadside attractions with my own special brand of fictional stomach churners.
So, yesterday I went shopping for the usual; camera batteries, bigger memory card, CDs (Feist, Silversun Pickups, both remarkable). But when I got to Target to pick up a Mother's Day card (a holiday I won't be around to celebrate, so it's been shoved back until the 27th: make sure to change it on your own calender), this woman was blocking the cards with her cart. I had to reach over her rude cart to grab my selections. The bitch saw me, too. Could she be bothered to move her cart. The word you're looking for is no. Deep breathing ensued.
Now, on to my argument with Target. What the hell is up with Mossimo? That's like a company in Jersey, with an italian name to make it sound cool. They've got to be cutting their denim in Micronesia 'cause the sizes are way off. Like by two sizes. Assholes. I had to go to Old Navy where a 38 is a 38. Thank you, but I prefer zaftig.
I think I'm breaking up with Target. That means you can't talk to them either. I know. I know. It's hard to be in the middle. You'll adjust.
'Til tomorrow.
So, yesterday I went shopping for the usual; camera batteries, bigger memory card, CDs (Feist, Silversun Pickups, both remarkable). But when I got to Target to pick up a Mother's Day card (a holiday I won't be around to celebrate, so it's been shoved back until the 27th: make sure to change it on your own calender), this woman was blocking the cards with her cart. I had to reach over her rude cart to grab my selections. The bitch saw me, too. Could she be bothered to move her cart. The word you're looking for is no. Deep breathing ensued.
Now, on to my argument with Target. What the hell is up with Mossimo? That's like a company in Jersey, with an italian name to make it sound cool. They've got to be cutting their denim in Micronesia 'cause the sizes are way off. Like by two sizes. Assholes. I had to go to Old Navy where a 38 is a 38. Thank you, but I prefer zaftig.
I think I'm breaking up with Target. That means you can't talk to them either. I know. I know. It's hard to be in the middle. You'll adjust.
'Til tomorrow.
Comments
Where y'all gonna be heading? Or is it a top secret mission?
Heather
(if you visit the SF Bay area, I can stalk you for real)
I'm a transplanted New Englander, and I fell in love with SF. I love it more than any city in the country.
Heather