Green, like a frog, but not.

So. There, in my circle of aquaintence, is a someone of whom I am jealous. His/her artistic-lifestyle-successful-blah-blah world makes me, in turn, envious and want to throw up in my mouth just a little, while at the same time wanting to punch them in the head and/or kick them in their shin. As I hear the stories, read the emails, and sit around with them, my jealousy grows. I was very surprised by this when it first happened, but I am a big fan of knowing that the heart and the brain have little control of each other. So. After my fabulous, wonderful, awesome-o vacation in Reno, I came back and had to read the emailed exploits of my L.east F.avorite P.erson (of LFP for short).

Grumpy with reading of LFP's fabulous, wonderous being, I laid down on my bed and had an epiphany: serverely-out-of-proportion ankles. I imagined them having serverely-out-of-proportion ankles. I imagined them having an amazingly difficult time shopping for socks. This brought a grin to my face. After grinning about socks, I imagined how odd they would look wearing shorts or even short-pants that highlighted their imagined ginormous ankles. I smiled. Then...I smiled even bigger. I even started to snicker (though, let it be noted that as a very proper young lady, I don't snicker...much).

I then envisioned said imaginary ankles TWICE as large and laughed twice as much. So. In my world, it turns out that my sarcastic, overly-bitter, little imagination can take out that crabby little green-like-a-frog-but-not envious feeling that settles over me from now to then. Stupid so-and-so: I really hope with all my atoms that they do have a hard time shopping for socks!

An erinku (sometimes she's a bit bitter on Sundays):
Dylan
clawed-open screens
full access to the
wild suburbs