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No Life Candy Until You Eat Your Curried Broccoli

Today is another one of those (sick of hearing about it, aren't you?) perfect Colorado days. Seriously, I giggled my ass off walking to the mailbox because that's what perfect 72 degree weather does to you. What was that movie about the drug that makes you feel "like it's 72 degrees in your head all the time?" I think it was called Brain Candy.

This summer has been just that - candy for my mind, body, and spirit. Maybe because it's something I don't get all the time. In our adult lives, it's very rare to really take this kind of time for yourself to do whatever you want. (Admittedly, not having kids and a spousal unit makes it a million times easier.) Life candy, if you will. My dad used to say, "No dessert until you've eaten your dinner," - I ate a lot of 'dinner' to get here to this very sweet place in my life, let me tell you. Of course as a kid, there was nothing I wouldn't eat, so there was never an issue. Come to think of it, we didn't have a lot of leftovers. "There's just a little left, give it to Val, she'll eat it," dad would say. "God bless that kid, she eats!" my grandmother would say, shaking her head. Italian grandmothers love nothing more than watching people eat. And so it was with my life - I've enjoyed every bite - even those things I may have gagged on a little over the last few years, but like vegetables I know they were good for me.

Speaking of vegetables, I'm sitting on the front porch at 2:00 in the afternoon drinking Merlot (CANDY!) because my house is being aired out from last night's culinary adventure: Curried Broccoli and Leek Soup. I woke up this morning, and the house still smelled like a kimchi joint. Doesn't matter how cool the breeze was, how nice the sheets felt, my ass was up and out of bed and hauling it down to the yoga studio just to get the hell out of the house.

After some nice sweaty body, mind, and spirit CANDY, I showered at the studio and headed downtown to run some errands. First stop was my favorite place for bubble tea. (If you haven't had one of these, think smoothie with large, chewy tapioca pearls in the bottom that you suck up through a fat straw. CANDY!) Since I only had enough change for 36 minutes of parking, I needed to be quick with my errands. Parking Nazi was definitely out to meet her quota today. So as I'm rushing around trying to find the right government office for what I needed to get done (you're either laughing right now, or maybe throwing up in your mouth just a little bit at the thought of dealing with any government office, aren't you?) street solicitors are showing no mercy for my parking-meter driven frenzy. Not to mention, I'm in yoga pants, flip-flops, and a tank top, stringy hair (I MUST remember to put a brush in my yoga bag) - needless to say, didn't think I was looking all that approachable. On purpose. (And hoping the "What Not to Wear" cast was nowhere around, since they've been shooting in Denver the last few weeks.) But it never fails, solicitors cannot resist me:

Solicitor #1: Genetically Modified Food Protestor: "You look nice, have a minute to stop and talk?"

Sweaty, stringy, sloppy, running in flip-flops with 8 minutes left on the meter Val: Dammit, I wasn't going for nice. "I can be nice, but not right now, meter-maid is stalking my car."

Solicitor 1: "I'll give you a quarter if you stop and talk with me."

Val: "Dude - my car is 4 blocks south, gotta bust a move. But hey, I'll google your cause when I get home."


Solicitor #2: Bum: "Got any change?"

Val: "I'm sorry, if I did, it would be in the parking meter, and I gave my last $4.00 to the bubble tea guy. But that guy (pointing to solicitor #1) is giving away quarters!"


Solicitor #3: Seemingly normal looking dude on a bike:
"Are you looking for a certain office?"

Val: "Yes, but I see the building right there. Thank you."

Solicitor #3: "Well read this while you're walking. We're leaving soon, so you'll want to be on board." He hands me a small piece of yellow paper.

Val: "Ohhhh - you're leaving soon, are ya?" Laughing so hard I nearly choked on a tapioca ball. "OK then, have a good trip!" I threw the unreadable piece of yellow paper in the dumpster as I walked past it - still laughing.

As I sit here thinking about the craziness that comes with going downtown - and life - it's still a perfect day to be outside (CANDY!) and I'm not sitting in a God-forsaken cubicle under fluorescent lights. Bums, crazy people, grouchy government employees (minus the handful that really ARE interested in doing their jobs and try to help you - and even smile) are part of the package. I drove home with the windows down, sucking the last of the large gelatinous balls through my straw at a traffic light wondering if the soup stench had left my house yet.

And I thought - it's STILL a perfect 72 degree day, I'm on my front porch, got a hot date with Ms. Stone, and my glass of Poppy Hill Merlot, giggling myself silly - not drunk, just a little sugar rush from life's candy.

Mi dispiace, still giggling.

Comments

  1. I need a day with you in the city. You crack me up. And I do not know of this bubble tea...I will be on the lookout!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was feeling "nice" that day. I once went ape-shit at an aggressive bum giving me a hard time because I wouldn't "look at him"?! WTF?! I went off: "Hey, MF, this is a free country, I don't HAVE to look at you and I have the RIGHT to not talk to anyone if I don't F***ing feel like it. And while we're at it, you don't KNOW me, what kind of day I'VE had. What about what I WANT - why does it have to be about YOU?!" Yep. Scared him to the other side of the sidewalk.

    ReplyDelete

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All entries are strictly observations from my point of view. This blog is not intended as professional commentary on travel, wine, food, or any other subjects I discuss - it is for entertainment, an online journal, for my friends, family, and anyone interested in my stories or journey in general.

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