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2007-09-23 || 3:57 p.m. || i don't have insurance. we don't have a house. || on the last day of summer i wore a winter coat outdoors and alternated between dinner and dessert, dinner and dessert. we played bingo and i made friends with babies and dogs, and while hovering near the refreshments a man asked me whether i was pregnant. kind of drunk, i took this as a completely standard and straightforward question, and answered no. he told me i should be. and kind of drunk, i took this as standard and straightforward, formulated from observation of my interaction with dogs and babies. the fact that i elbowed my way to hold a baby, dumping over a glass of wine and upending the corner of a tablecloth to get to him, might have caused his confidence in making the statement. and the way i walked around with the baby, bouncing him slightly until my arms burned and singing jibberish about trees and lights, might have caused a bit of a scene. we left with my coat full of wine and great dane hair and the faintest note of baby barf. what are we waiting for, next summer to end? guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |