Random Thoughts on my Friday "lunch break"

Alone at the office on a Friday afternoon- kinda fun, mostly freaky. Fun until I think about all the sketchy guys that walk past our building on a daily basis. And the fact that the police call the neighborhood across the street "Little Havana".

Yesterday was the first day of summer in the SC. Yes, while all you saps in the North are just now breaking out your t-shirts and admiring the little flower buds tentatively showing themselves, spring is already a thing of the past down here. And frankly, I'd forgotten how hot it gets here when it's, well, HOT. The answer, in case you were wondering, is VERY. I know this because when I got into my car after work, my skin immediately melted anywhere it touched my leather seats. Seriously, it was gross. But tonight when I get home, I am putting on something loose-fitting and scandalous, making a margarita, and drinking it while reading a trashy romance novel on the porch. Ah, summer.

Nicknames: I don't know why, but I call less than 25% percent of the people I know by their given name. Is this a girl thing? Is it a me thing? Right now, off the top of my head, here are the names of some of the people I consider friends- Javi, Shaakar, Boy Scout, Hannie, Beaver, Nay-Nay, Hal-bear, Babs, Big, Little, K.O., Ryry, Marky (known as "Bry-Bry" in some circles), Mallo, PD, Pearl, Codiz, Piko, JoJo, Sushi, LB, Sofi-Pie, Hei-Hei... and this is not like an occasional name I drop. This is how I address my correspondence to these people; the way their names are saved in my cell phone. And I have a few names of my own- most notably, Karebear, Maren Killer (which Kristen so lovingly shortens to just 'Killer' at times), and K-Millz, which seems to be the current favorite. I just think it's strange, is all. Will I grow out of this phase?

I hate when I'm flipping through the stations on the radio and I stop because some fetching tune catches my attention and I'm like "oh yeah, I like this song!" and then two seconds later I realize it's a commercial jingle. And I feel embarrassed/highly worried about my taste in music. And then I think "I wonder if there's a full, director's cut three-minute version of the Purina Dog Chow song...?" (There isn't. I checked)

And lastly, very rarely do I admit to the extreme case of boy-craziness I've been afflicted with since I was just a wee lass (second grade, in fact- I had a massive crush on Ryan Sontag. He's married now and plays minor league ball. Sigh... I should have made my move when we were cast as the shoemaker and the shoemaker's wife in our class production of The Shoemaker and the Elves).

However, it has to be said: I really think there are a disproportionate number of good-looking men in Greenville. Maybe it's because I spent the entirety of my adolescence and early adulthood in Monroe and Hillsdale, respectively, but almost daily I only narrowly miss involving myself in a fatal automobile accident because I can't take my eyes off the gorgeous guy in the car next to me... or the guy passing me in the other direction, or the guy in my rearview mirror. Seriously, they're everywhere, and a large contingent of them have taken up residence in my apartment complex. It's nice and all, but for once I'd like to just take my trash out without putting on make-up. Ya know?