Saturday, November 30

I love reading The New Yorker... Let me clarify. By "reading The New Yorker" I mean:

1) looking at the cartoon on the cover
2) finding the title of said cover cartoon
3) reading the movie reviews
4) trying to read the articles
5) giving up on the articles when I realize I understand less than 25% of what is being said
6) skimming the rest of the issue for the cartoons.

Someday maybe I'll be the woman reading it cover to cover, giggling at some witty remark written between the lines, my perfectly coiffed hair bobbing up and down as I nod to myself in agreement with one of the articles. I'll be drinking an extra fancy espresso drink with a ring of my ruby red lipstick stained on the side of the mug. But for now it's just me -- hair barely held together on top of my head with an old clip, lips desperately needing chapstick, and plain old earl gray tea in front of me. Honestly, I think I'm happy with how it is now. Even if I don't understand the majority of what they're saying.

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