Sometimes a girl just needs to paint her toenails “Blackberry”

Well, Thea’s “Hot Hot Friday Nights” continue to impress; yesterday here in Va Beach, it was almost 75 degrees. Literally “hot.” I arrived in Newport News at 6:45 pm and started my drive home, after sitting next to bad-smelling sketchy guy on train from DC onward. I forget how freaking humid it is around here, but if I have to put up with that so that I can come up from the Hampton Roads Bridge-Tunnel’s last leg to find myself driving on two piling-supported lanes just above the water. It was high tide, so the windy evening chopped up the water quite a bit and swirled the seagulls around in gusts through the pools of yellow streetlight on the water. No meetings, no responsibilities, and late for nothing.

The best thing about my urban comsumer-driven day was its complete frivolity. I spent 30 min at Reading Terminal Market devouring frisbee-sized hotcakes at the mennonite diner, contemplated buying a $14.50 set of 1950’s parody magnets. There was one set called “bitter women” and another one called “shoe fetish.” My willpower to resist was significant. I then blew half my cash on cannolis for mom’s birthday, which was worth it. The rest of my green went towards a pair of t-strap heels that I found in a discount store, just like the ones Kaitlyn and I were lusting after on the 9 West website (and which froze my computer…how does that happen to a Mac? I mean, honestly, they were only brown leather pumps), except I got mine for $17, not $71. Too bad they have absolutely no natural materials and will probably fall apart by the end of the winter =).

I’d never been to the market on a weekday, which was a totally different experience than I’m used to. The people that own the stores were all eating breakfast in the food area around the cash machine, and vegetable trucks unloaded Lancaster’s finest produce into the stalls as the market quitetly bustled. Instead of aisles clogged with convention center groups with nametags or high school field trips, everyone in search of the fastest to go lunch that they can find, there were people who work in the city with time enough to hang around and gossip, bitch about the Eagles’ season, or talk with the waitstaff about their golf game. The atmosphere in the diner and the other breakfast places was one of efficiency, a comfortable early morning routine. The warm air hovering around the chrome stools and brushed steel countertop was their comfort zone, filled with local customers and clinking coffee spoons in coffee cups. Sure, there were a few travelers like myself, and a scattering of tourists that probably rose about the same time the bread did that moring, but for the most part it was a space for Philadelphians, and I felt priveleged to be there. With a smiled greeting and an extra-large tip, I paid for my admission to this metropolitan show, and then I was on my way.

All the way home, I was on a bit of a high from a productive and entertaining morning, and I couldn’t believe my good fortune to be given a relaxing, pleasure-filled day over fall break, which for the past three years has been filled with stressful trips to faraway soccer games, trying to remember why I love the sport enough to give up all my free time. This year, I got to come *home* during first semester (an unprecedented occurrence), kick back in the recliner with my cat on my lap and a cardboard cup of starbucks coffee on the table beside me, guiltily enjoying the wonders of cable television. You know there’s something seriously wrong when Julia Stiles’ performance in “Save the Last Dance” makes you weepy. I’m writing it off to lack of sleep, and we’ll leave it at that. 9 days left, and I intend to savor every one.


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