totally lame

I'm stuck in retail hell for an hour while Mom, Laura and Kristi are in a yoga class. And what am I doing? Sitting in the car, of course, because I hate shopping. I am about to go into Hastings (the *worst* book/music store, ever) to waste some time. I am an idiot and didn't bring a book, or else I would just go to Starbucks and read. But, alas, I must figure out something else to entertain myself for 45 more minutes.

Blerg. I so don't want to go into Hastings. They put copies of The Advocate behind the counter like it's porn. Fucking uptight Christian fucks. Anyway.

I miss home. I miss Andrea and my friends and my kitties and other things. This is a common thing for me. Halfway through vacation I get tired of it and just want to go home. It's part of me hating vacation and all that nonsense. Although this vacation has been nice and I've gotten to read and nap a lot, just like I wanted to. My weird homesickness is just one of those things I understand and accept about myself, like any of my other bizarre neuroses. 

I think, instead of going into Hastings I will drive back to the yoga studio place and listen to music in the car. That sounds better than any of my other options.

After this we get to go eat awesome food, so it's all good.