So, I'm a bananahead. It's official. I went to Moxie Java today to ask out Mr Barista. Did I do it? No. Noooo, I chickened out. I did drop the hint that I am, as ever, interested. If he doesn't know by now...damnit. Anyway, I just have to say that I am possibly the world's worst flirt - aka - I stink at it worse than a two-ton banana out in the sun for a month. I think that would categorically qualify me as a bananahead. Bah. Next time.
Ah friends. I present to you a newer, brighter, sun-shinier becki. The sun has come out, the air is getting warmer, flip-flop season is on it's way. Things are on the up'n'up. I know, you've all just had an earful of a week, but I can say with complete confidence that the only reason that's the case is because I was home alone with too much time to think. Never leave me to my own device. All I'd ever do is think, and too much thinking takes me to a dark, dark place.
Well cats and kittens, I'll see you at Travatos if you're headed out that way.Edited to add: I went back. I was a bumbling bananahead, but I did it. Maybe he'll show up. *nervous*Edited to add Pt. 2: Boo. No show.