It's 80 degrees in Little Rock today. It feels perfect for the first time since March. We basically skipped spring and went straight from winter to summer this year. And on this beautiful 80 degree day, I feel ho hum. As in just ok. Ordinary. Nothing spectacular. Normal.
Lots of things have happened over the weekend. I apologize for not sharing sooner.
bachelorette party I attended last weekend. Well she is officially married to her hubby. And they are leaving for their honeymoon today. Don't ask me where because I have no idea, and neither does she.
Last night's run was a very sticky, sweaty one. Logan and Lindsay are back. Thankfully. And we were all not feeling a run, but we did it.
The roommate and I got to the Big Dam Bridge a little bit before Logan and Lindsay. As the roommate was putting her purse in the trunk, I stopped her from shutting it so we could look for this African Tales book she swore to me was in there years ago.
(This African Tales book was from a class we both took at UCA dedicated to African/African American Studies. The book was full of awesome short stories, or African folk tales, that we loved. I sold my book back to the bookstore, but the roommate swore she kept hers in the trunk.)
As we were searching for this book, she says it's not in the trunk. She then points out three pairs of old tennis shoes.
She said, "Look. It's those shoes you told me to get rid of before we moved out of the house."
She sounded so proud. Like she had tricked me.
Now let me explain something. The roommate has a hard time letting things go. And by things I mean items. When we moved from the house we lived in for three years to a 900 sq. ft. box apartment, we both had to rid our closets of unnecessary items.
She got rid of three trash bags full of clothes and t-shirts that were too big for her or that she never wore. But the shoes were another story.
She had a laundry hamper full of shoes I had never seen on her feet. I advised her to keep the ones she wore all the time and the ones she couldn't live without. The girl has umteen pairs of tennis shoes, and she chose three pairs to get rid of.
Unbeknowst to me, the tennis shoes never really left the building. While they didn't make it into the new apartment, the rogue tennis shoes have lived through three moves in the roommate's trunk. And I don't see them leaving the trunk anytime soon.
I remember praising her for getting rid of so much stuff when we left the house. And praising her again when she cleaned out her dresser drawers and closet on her own before be left the box. But yesterday I was taken aback with the trunk shoes. And even more taken aback with her sly giggle of her having pulled the wool over my eyes for two years.
You think you know someone, and then BAM. They sneak the tennis shoes back in. It's not a big deal. I just think it's funny. Funny that she hasn't worn them in 3+ years. Funnier that the shoes have been in her trunk for two years and she thinks she's sneaky.
I'm going to use my persuasive abilities to try to get those tennis shoes to Goodwill. I don't know where they will go after the trunk....Maybe under her bed or in some kind of secret hidden shoe compartment...
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