Two hours
Stolen by the movie “Revolutionary Road”. I think I have a low-tolerance for suburban crazy drama. It just seems so pointless. I get it. You live in the suburbs. It’s suffocating. Your life is boring.
It’s called growing up or living in the suburbs or something.
Two Hours
Stolen by that Clint Eastwood movie where he plays an old man from about ten years ago. Was this the one where he was a secret service agent? Or the one after that?
All I know is that some people in our group snuck out and went to the other theatre to watch “Dante’s Peak”.
Thirty Minutes
Big thanks to the circular conference call I was on last week. You know the type… you go around and around and around discussing the same thing over and over and over and over again.
Dancing
Props to the snarky girlfriend who in college made such a pointed comment about my dancing that I have not danced since that night.
Hopelessness, despair, and embarrassment
I had it for the past eight years or so. Kudos to the new president for at taking most of it away.
My gray Patagonia jacket
Stolen out of my tenth grade locker and I think worn days later by a guy much larger than I was. Secretly, I don’t think I really liked the jacket and it made the guy look even more like a douche.
My gym gear
Stolen out of my ninth grade gym locker. Why? It was my gym clothes. Oddly I got the shoes back – a very nice pair of Nike running shoes (this was back when I ran). I have small feet, so maybe that helped.
What was hilarious was that a week or so later, a girl in a neighboring gym class was seen wearing MY GYM SHIRT. I went up to the gym teacher (who was my neighbor) and pointed out that the girl over there was wearing my ugly white, ringer tee with the name of my father’s law firm on it.
I think the girl had to go take it off and return it to me.
Um, thanks!
