Monday, I went to the grocery store at 9:30 a.m. I did not realize that this was a bad idea. Normally, my hus-friend (because husband sounds like laundry) and I go to the grocery store late in the evening and play basketball with a bag of chips and the cart and dance to the muzak. 9:30 a.m. is a different crowd. 9:30 a.m. is social hour for senior citizens and I am not a senior citizen. I know that assuming what people think about me is half the problem and the other half is probably the thought that I could be the victim of kidnap! like on Law and Order: SVU. However, I did feel as though I should have been at least pregnant, helping out an elderly grandmother or stocking produce. I got lots of squinty, wrinkly, wise-old stink-eyes until I found the stay-at-home moms, but without kids, I felt like I was dissing their line of work. Groceries @ 9:30 are not for the weak or socially anxious. FYI.

I am incredibly thankful for these two months to breathe, relax and obsessively dust using home remedies, like dryer sheets. But I have not exactly learned how to relax. Attempting to do so, I went to said hus-friend's men's softball game after dinner on Monday. The other team was split in half, with some silverbacks attempting to enjoy some recreation and the other juiceboxes playing their hearts out for the men's softball scouts in the wings......ok I'm not trying to squash anyone's ability or hopes to make it to the pros (dude, live your dreams), but it was sort of hard to watch how hard they were trying. They might have been drunk.

So, instead of watching boys in men's clothing chase around a bloated neon green baseball, I started thinking about this huge chunk of time and decided to prioritize what I want to accomplish this summer. On my Black Berry. At the game. This is not relaxation. (* denotes items available for extension beyond 2 months)

Summer Dreams
+ Learn how to tune a piano. *
+ Make a working bubble rocket.
+ Eat the bacon chocolate at Fresh Market and reflect.
+ Learn to accentuate the right syllables in 4 new difficult words (such as su-PER-floo-us).
+ By August 9th (my last summer Tuesday), finish a Tuesday NY Times crossword in 45 minutes with 0-2 cheats.
+ Learn half of the dance in the new Chris Brown video, including the modified Cat Daddy. *
+ Learn the sign for "giraffe."
+ Enter a sweepstakes.
+ Find a yoga instructor AND someone that will guilt trip me into going to found yoga instructor.
+ Use a shoe horn.
+ Watch a movie/read a book about Atlantis and/or dinosaurs.
+ Maybe think about being a flamingo for Halloween. Iron out probable logistics.
+ Avoid pregnancy.
+ Acquire a new toast, animal-pun joke, or an anecdote that attempts to use both.
+ Learn how to use bleach.
+ Attempt to enjoy playing the kazoo. *
+ Water plants, avoid being responsible for their death and research how to do that.

Lately, it has come to my attention that I may have an intense fear of strangers. I previously chalked this up to just not liking most humans, but I actually think that I'm just terrified of them.

One of my friends recently told me this story about going to the grocery (which is Dayton, Ohio slang for "grocery store"). She went on to talk about this funny little conversation she struck up with an elderly woman in the yogurt section. The woman picked up Fiber One yogurt and my friend pointed out, "It's really good. I get it all the time," which started a tornado? a hurricane? a severe weather euphemism that means they talked each other's faces off. Who has time to talk about yogurt with a stranger? I think about these things.

But maybe it's because I don't like small talk. I like big talk. I like to talk about things that matter, like how we all probably fear the same things and want the same things, it just comes out different. Like I won't usually pick up the phone if I only have five minutes to talk, or if I'm driving and I want that time to think or have a Preacher's Wife sound track sing along, because I don't want to talk about yogurt. I may just want to tell you a very involved joke and I want to get it right.

So on to the possible fear. I have now started to say "hi" to strangers, at least on my bike because then they can't stop and ask me anything because I can easily peddle away. That's probably psychotic.

Post.Script: There is nothing wrong with talking about yogurt, I just simply cannot do it.

nerves of noodles