Since by the time I get to a computer my mind is blank, I'll copy what I wrote down in my notebook today while I waited for Ruby:

Thirty minutes

Ruby's recorder class is 30 minutes. This doesn't give me time to do anything. I can't run to Target because it takes 10 minutes to get there. Adding that it takes 10 minutes to get back I would have only 10 minutes to shop and wait at the register (ha, how about that math skill of mine). So I just park in front of her music teacher's house and wait. 30 minutes is just enough time to kill a few chapters in the book I'm reading, get insulted by the radio talk shows or be distracted by something going on outside.

Today it was the outside.

The music instructor has new neighbors; an Asian family now occupies the tiny rental house. They keep rabbits in cages in their front lawn. I think there are about 5 cages with 2-3 rabbits each. They move the cages around the yard letting the rabbits trim down their lawn. I wonder if they can't afford a lawnmower. I would say this was an ingenius move to reduce their carbon footprint, but their lawn is tall and uneven. Their two boys they don't play with the rabbits, but rather inside their nice new minivan. The boys treat the minivan like an extension of their small house ... no, rather more like a couch inside their house.

Today the mother was outside feeding lunch to the boys. It would have been a typical suburban scene if she didn't make them eat lunch in the back of their minivan. As the kids ate their sandwiches she helped them with their homework and periodically stared me down like I was some stalker wanting to eat up her boys.

Yea right, I'm the weird one in this scenario lady. Stop looking at me.

I have been writing here much because ... da dum dum... I started a paper journal! I carry around a little ugly notebook small enough to fit in my bag to record all those thoughts that never quite survive in my head by the time I reach a computer, or after I read about the goings on in your lives.

Today, only because I am a very fast typist, I type what I wrote today during lunch. Here you will able to decide if I'm sparing you, or denying you these tidbits of my sorry mind:

ASUC Noon

There is a woman in front of me at this ASUC Eatery displaying the top of her BUTT CRACK. I find this disturbing. I find it hard to eat my Pho with that crack looming near me. She IS an attractive sort, I am only guessing by the evidence of her long highlighted hair (all I can see besides her butt right now). She is speaking with a foreign accent, but like most Americans I can't tell what kind.

I suppose if I were a guy I would see this an a fortuitous opportunity to peek into the forbidden nether regions of a stranger woman. I don't know, what goes through the minds of men during times like this? I can help but notice a few scratches...lawd, she scratchers herself? I must not look at her fingernails. I MUST FIND ANOTHER TABLE... now. I am grossed out by the wonder of the human body, yes yes! Curse me! Call me shallow! A prude! But I simply do not want to eat while having a bare crack, well, BARE DOWN NEAR ME.

She turned around momentarily. Her eyes are heavily made-up which tells me she isn't from around here. And she wears a white vest with spanking clean athletic shoes. She must be an alien from some Moonie butt scratching country.

God, will another table open up soon? I'll just have to watch someone else -- there! There is a guy with a nervous leg. His leg bobs up and down like mine does. We are nervous leg twins. Man, does he ever jiggle his leg. Is that how I look? Do people sit around writing about my jiggly leg? At least my butt is covered.

Pho is finished. I'm out of here. BTW, the vietnamese lady was not impressed that I correctly pronounced "Pho" like "Fa" as seattleforge taught me. If you can't impress people like that, what is the use?