Mmm... chili...

Hello lads and lassies, I return from an emergency diner trip to simultaneously prevent Jose's imminent diabetic shock (which would assuredly immediately follow his development of diabetes), and more importantly, to see the one cute waitress at the diner. Sadly, we were not placed in her section, but I did distract her enough that her supervisor yelled at her. She was reading my T-shirt, see. With her hands on my shoulders.

[Adjusts tie in a meaningful manner]

Do you remember when EVERYTHING was significant? For most people this ended in high school... it's hard to describe, but you know what I'm talking about. Those hormonally-charged and emotionally idiotic swathes of time when the smallest inclination of the head of the person who sat opposite you in Trig was the definitive proof that they were your soul mate/they hated you forever. You know, back when you kept a diary. Or if you were particularly precocious, a 'journal'. Kids these days have blogs to take care of that kind of absurd obsession, lucky them, as do the youngish adults who never entirely grow out of that kind of behavior, pitiable fools though they may be.