when being arty is just plain stupid.
so it's been crazy hot in much of the country lately, thus admitting it's been crazy hot here recently surely won't give us away.
in the midst of all this heat, stella and i tried valiently to keep up our daily routines - walking the dogs, going to work, walking the dogs some more, drinking wine, drinking more wine, collapsing in front of the fan to conserve energy while drinking yet more wine in vain and stupid attempts to keep ourselves hydrated (yes, we know wine dehydrates, we get it - but mmm mm mm! it's tasty).
while out on one of our walks the other day, we came across a yard sale. in a college town, it was the usual junk - broken lamps, cassette tapes, used paperbacks, hipster cast off t-shirts. the usual suspects gathered round - emo boys, art history girls, art students.
now, inga hearts the emo boys. she digs the art history girls, especially their bangs and stylish sense of eyeware. and generally she digs the art students. sure, artsy boys are actually banned from my can-date list (along with boys whose names start with vowels and vegans, generally anything with a 'v' - but in our experiences, artsy boys, vowel-names, and vegans are generally one and the same, so really, it doesn't eliminate as many guys as you'd think), but art students rock.
except for art school girl at the yard sale.
the temperature? at least 100, not counting the heat index. it was the kind of day where you are literally stiffled by the heat; it settles on your shoulders and stays put (oh, why walk the dogs then? hi. have you met rye, otherwise knowns as poetry in motion?).
so, there's art school girl in the midst of the yard sale. everyone else is smartly dressed in madras shorts, strappy tops, summer dresses, plain white t-shirts. the kids are rocking the flip flops or going sockless in their new-retro vans. and then there's art girl: ankle-length black pants, high necked t-shirt, long sleeve black cardigan - pulled down to her wrists.
seriously, girlfriend. you are ridiculous. even the goth kids were bopping about town in maroon rather than their standard black garb.
idiot.
in the midst of all this heat, stella and i tried valiently to keep up our daily routines - walking the dogs, going to work, walking the dogs some more, drinking wine, drinking more wine, collapsing in front of the fan to conserve energy while drinking yet more wine in vain and stupid attempts to keep ourselves hydrated (yes, we know wine dehydrates, we get it - but mmm mm mm! it's tasty).
while out on one of our walks the other day, we came across a yard sale. in a college town, it was the usual junk - broken lamps, cassette tapes, used paperbacks, hipster cast off t-shirts. the usual suspects gathered round - emo boys, art history girls, art students.
now, inga hearts the emo boys. she digs the art history girls, especially their bangs and stylish sense of eyeware. and generally she digs the art students. sure, artsy boys are actually banned from my can-date list (along with boys whose names start with vowels and vegans, generally anything with a 'v' - but in our experiences, artsy boys, vowel-names, and vegans are generally one and the same, so really, it doesn't eliminate as many guys as you'd think), but art students rock.
except for art school girl at the yard sale.
the temperature? at least 100, not counting the heat index. it was the kind of day where you are literally stiffled by the heat; it settles on your shoulders and stays put (oh, why walk the dogs then? hi. have you met rye, otherwise knowns as poetry in motion?).
so, there's art school girl in the midst of the yard sale. everyone else is smartly dressed in madras shorts, strappy tops, summer dresses, plain white t-shirts. the kids are rocking the flip flops or going sockless in their new-retro vans. and then there's art girl: ankle-length black pants, high necked t-shirt, long sleeve black cardigan - pulled down to her wrists.
seriously, girlfriend. you are ridiculous. even the goth kids were bopping about town in maroon rather than their standard black garb.
idiot.
posted by lynda at 7:20 PM
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