Bedtime Stories

Last night was a good night.

I went shopping with my mom, bought a hair band and 2 pairs of earrings, 2 coloring books for my boyfriend's kids and another book for him called "Bedtime Stories" for him to read to his kids before they go to bed. "Bedtime Stories" sounds awfully naughty but it's probably just my Madonna-generation background talking. I also saw a lady with a black eye, healing gradually but still badly bruised. Yesterday is when I proved to myself that we really are a stereotypical TV/Internet generation. The first thing I thought upon seeing her eye was [add the thinking bubble over my head]:

"Fuck that asshole! I can't believe he beat her up like that! I wonder why he did it. Hmmm."

But what if she wasn't beaten up? What if she had honestly seriously just walked into a door? See. There it is again. So if she wasn't beaten up, it had to be a door? That's the second movie/Archie comic book stereotype. I was so intrigued, I just wanted to walk up and ask her. But I couldn't.

I met a close friend over Frescato, Mozarella & Sun Dried Tomato Panini, Latte and Green Tea with mint. There was a song that kept playing that drove me crazy. You know those songs that you remember so clearly growing up but were never interested enough to know their names because you thought they would always just be around based on your stupid child-like mentality? You grow up and come to realize that you should have concentrated more as a kid so that you would have not been put in that stupid situation where you were sitting at a cafe listening to a song that is driving you crazy because you can't remember it's name.

After getting home, I stayed up talking and laughing with my mom until 4 a.m. It had been such a long time since I had spent time [that I can call worthwhile] with her. She woke my sister up at 4 to have something to eat and to pray and she asked me to pray with them. Generally, my mother doesn't interfere with whether I pray or not mainly because we had a discussion a while back about how I do not like people telling me to pray because it always detracts from the feeling when I do. You can go ahead and name-call if you're like. I felt so at ease when I did. I don't think it was that I was praying. It was that I was praying with them.

I'm hungry right now. I don't know whether I should go back to sleep [although it's 2:42 p.m. and I woke up at 1:30 p.m.] or go zonk out in front of the TV [which I'm starting to like a little more than I used to].

View from my bedroom. Sunrise 5:30 a.m.