First Walk To School.

I don’t actually remember this. My mother told it to me over and over again, so that it has become a memory, even if it’s not, really.

I was ready. I was eager. I knew kindergarten was the place for me.

My two best friends, Cindy and David, were not. David, a sturdy redhead, kept shaking his head.”I don’t think I want to go. I don’t know…I don’t want to go…” over and over. Cindy, whose parents came from Canton province, was more reserved, but more stoic. She placed one Mary-jane-shod foot in front of the other, saying nothing, her eyes wide.

Finally I got impatient and took Cindy by the hand and David by the tie (Yes, back in the day, mothers sent their children to school on the first day wearing ties.) and bodily hauled them along towards the excitement that was school. Since I was the smallest of the three, I don’t know where I got the strenght to drag two bigger kids. But somehow I managed.

We three came out of school with the biggest smiles on our faces.

“I wasn’t scared at all,” bragged David.

I didn’t correct him.

First Time My Bank Card Was ‘Compromised’.

Can I get it in under the midnight wire? Only time can tell. Oh, and maybe typing speed.

So, today  was one of those days.  Technology hates me. It’s a thing. I had to go get a new phone. Well, really I didn’t, I had to renew my cell plan, but why not get a new phone, because my old one was dangerously close to breaking. I’m hard on cell phones. So I went there, and the attractive phone saleswoman is showing me all these phones, and really, I’m thinking, “Why do I have to choose? I don’t even know what to look for. So now I have a new phone. It has a camera. And apparently I can listen to MP3s. But I’m never going to. So.

I had the added confusion in that when I went to the bank to get rent, the machine didn’t take my card. It didn’t eat it, but wouldn’t let me have my money. So I called the bank and they told me my card had been ‘compromised’. It made me think of spy movies. A willowy brunette in leather had extracted secret information from it.  She left it for dead in a Moscow gutter. Or maybe it had been caught out in the conservatory at Lady Haversham’s Yule Ball, its lacy shoulder straps at its elbows. Marriage was the only way to avoid scandal!

Whatever the case, it necessitated a trip to my home branch to change my PIN, thereby missing Latin Funk class, the whole reason I was walking around in sneakers, which I never do, because I am worried that someone will think I am a soccer mom.  So I schlepped in the misty rain (Great for my hair! And with the sneakers? Such a fashion plate!)up to the bank and then stammered like a yokel at the patient bank teller. But now it’s fixed,  and I have a new PIN I hope I will remember.

So I went home and began to pry the keys off my computer, as I had spilled tea in it. Arwen and John assured me that I could fix it with rubbing alcohol and Q-tips, so I tried. The space bar is still wonky, but I think the others are working well. It was a little gross to see what was under the keys, though.

And, lo, tomorrow is the last day of November.

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