Another Fabulous Friday Night

Now I have never been one of those women who won't leave the house without a face full of makeup, old school advice aside. I know, I'm single, I need to be constantly ready

(in a case it didn't read like it that was tongue in cheek there, folks)

but, like being well shod, it's just not going to happen.

I am so not that girl.

This fact came back to bite me Friday night though. Left planless and adrift for the weekend, I was attempting to amuse and cajole myself out of my 'waa waa' funk with some thrifting and running about town but it wasn't working. In fact, if I'd have been five I would have stamped my feet and whined that's how bad it was. But I stopped at the grocery in another end of town, food in the larder and one more thing crossed off the list being two more, albeit feeble attempts, to cheer myself, before hitting the Chinese takeout next door. (They have woks big enough to bathe in which is always good for a smile at least.)

Immediately upon walking in I spy someone in produce that I have wanted to meet since moving back home last fall. A friend of a friend and a quasi local celeb there he was, looking just like his picture. And there I was-pale, crabby and looking like ten kinds of crap.

Now it would take a certain kind of day for me for feel confident enough to march up to someone I don't know and say, "You don't know me from a wagon wheel but I'm Sam. We should be friends, and let me tell you why." And that day for sure wasn't the day. So instead I skulked around the store spying like some sort of low rent, less cute Veronica Mars. And left, feeling even grumpier than before.