Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Tuesday Mission

Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt

When I'm trying to remember something, I repeat it over and over and over and over to myself. The side effect is that I look insane as I walk down the street, muttering to myself.

 

Vivian's class will be performing in the song "Feed the Birds" in the school production of Mary Poppins! (cue: "awwwwww")

ergo,
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt
Black leggings
Gray long sleeve shirt

We went to school today singing (horribly) and half-dancing (horribly) and laughing (delightedly) and Viv asked if I'd for sure be able to get her costume today and I confidently told her, "Of course I will! I'm going up to City Centre right after I drop you off. Consider it done, wee dearie."

Soooooo...what's up with all the logos and pictures on gray shirts out there, retailers??

I don't even know how many stores I went in, but I do know that after what felt like the 50th, I started a reward system for myself. You don't need to know the specifics, but you can bet I scored gummi bears and biscuits and popcorn. (I'm awesome at grading myself!)

My cold is still in a state of glory so my morning began with pockets full of tissues and by the time I got home, my pockets were empty. I'm sorry, Belfast, for filling your bins with a landfill-worth of tissues. I knew I needed more cold medicine so I stopped at Tesco, patted myself on the back for remembering my bags (and scored more rewards for myself), and sniffled my way through the aisles. It felt like the right decision to make a roast chicken and root vegetables for dinner tonight so my bags were a bit heavy, but it isn't a far walk and so I balanced the bags and trotted off toward home.

As I turned from Lisburn Road to Windsor Park, I noticed a car back into a parking area to turn around. I noted it, but didn't react to it.

I kept walking.

The car went between two cars that were parallel parked and the door opened; I figured someone was being dropped off, was aware of it, but kept walking.

The car drove ahead to another space between parked cars and gave a wee toot on the horn. My mother trained me right: never respond to a horn honk. I kept walking.

The car drove ahead to another space (this is feeling like a Grimm's tale where things happen in threes), the door opened and the driver leaned over like he wanted directions. I stopped, and backed up. He asked if I wanted a lift. I laughed.

I told him no, he said the bags looked heavy, I said they were evenly balanced and I enjoy the walk. He again offered a ride, I again said no thank you. He again offered a ride and I looked at him pointedly and said, "I said no." With teacher voice. Then he asked me for my number. I laughed as I said no, then resumed walking. He turned around and drove away.

So. Either I got hit on or someone wanted to kidnap me. I'm totally too big a girl for either.

Fear not, folks. At no point was I in danger. My spidey senses never triggered and I never felt unsafe.

When I got home I got an email about my Verizon bill and it was higher than I expected. I knew there would be a month of transition trying to figure out the best way to use international plans, but I figured I'd better go straight to customer service rather than navigating it on my own. Ever since I got a cell phone over a decade ago I've used Verizon and I've always been happy with their customer service. Today was no different. Charlie and I chatted online about my bill and my international plan and he was not only helpful, but friendly and fun! (Hi, Charlie! Welcome to the blog! I hope you get to Belfast! If you're in the NY metro area, take note of Norwegian Air.) Now my bill is all figured out, I had a great chat with someone new, I'm still happy with Verizon, and the rest of the evening is going to be all about roasted chicken, Mary Poppins, and snuggling with that cute kid of mine.

When I picked her up she looked at me with wicked delight and said:


And I said, "you're officially in 2nd grade! That's the best part of being 2nd grade - getting told that joke!"


And now, a more appropriate video for your viewing pleasure:

Feed the Birds:



 

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