Why Wasn't There A Knight In Shining Armour To Catch Me?

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As I fell down our front steps here at work, skinned my knee, shredded my hose and bruised my ankle to the point that is looks kind of broken.

Oh yes. And I ruined my favorite pair of black heels.

My co-workers were quite shocked when I expressed more dismay over my ruined vintage silk heels, than over my rather hidious growth on my ankle. Vintage shoes are irreplacable! Bruises fade... sometimes. (I must say, I am being wounded in style. I have tied my ankle ice-pack on with a Hermes scarf.)

I will look on the bright side. It means I get to go buy new shoes. But the dark side must mention that these are some horribly ugly bruises. I look like I have an abusive boyfriend.

Oh wait! I don't HAVE a boyfriend. Abusive or otherwise.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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