some random things

This morning I woke up burning burning burning hot. This was, naturally, because I had closed the window and then it got warmer outside and in. So I opened the window from the bottom, which I don't normally do because the window is harder to open that way and as I was walking to school I realized that I had left it open and the mind of a girl who grew up in Liberia thought, "What if someone comes and takes something from the windowsill?" Then I realized that the only things on the windowsill are candles and a $10 alarm clock and if someone is willing to climb 6 floors up the fire escape and cut through the screen for a $10 alarm clock, I want them to have it. No really. Take it. Please.

My blue KLM flight attendant coat carried the day. Everyone I see loves it. I have gotten at LEAST 8 compliments today MINIMUM (note: redundancy intentional). The color is great on me. (My modesty prevails yet again - but hey, there's a reason why the Dutch love that kind of blue. We just look good in it.) Last night, in the bodega, the guy looked at me for a while while he was ringing up my organic milk, ringing it up in an inordinately slow manner, and then said, "You look beautiful tonight." Which brings me to another point. Why are non-American men so much more flattering to be around than American men? My European and African friends, even those who are in long-term committed relationships and have no designs on me whatsoever, are so much more complimentary. Not to insult American men, but if you are one, answer this question truthfully: when was the last time you told a female friend genuinely and without any skankiness that she looked beautiful? And this question: when have you ever called a female friend "Beautiful" as an endearment, not a description, without any skankiness? Oh, wait, you haven't! Ever! Because it comes out skanky. It always comes out skanky in this country. We are socializing boys incorrectly, somehow. My friend Tomaso (from the Italian part of Switzerland) can say, "Ciao, bella!" to every girl-who-is-a-friend and it never sounds skanky. (Which is not to say that there are no skanky men in Italy. There are, I hear, although I didn't encounter any when I was there, I don't think.)

Okay, that's all for today. Off to yoga.

P.S. I have re-enabled anonymous comments on here - you just have to type in a funny code word that it will show you, to prove that you are real and not a bot. Missy, that one's for you, darling. xx