How incredibly random...

The other day the owner of this store I frequent so often offered to sell me the business. I laughed in his face..."Oh, Dave, that's hilarious. Can you imagine?"
Blankly stares back.
Ohhhh....
But I'm only 23; so?. But I want to travel; you can... But I don't know the first thing about selling this stuff!
Good point.

Who does that though?

"I'm selling the business. If my son doesn't buy it, I'd like you to, random-strange-girl-I've-only-met-in-the-context-of-this-store. How much, you say? Oh, $75,000."
So, obviously I jumped all over that one. I mean, I gave him the 'what-the' face.

The other random thing, I've been invited on a safari in Kenya for the end of August. Variety is the spice of life. Safari's make life spicier.

And lastly, while I was writing my last entry about Ben and my feelings for him, who could guess there was a package from him waiting for me in my mailbox. Oh yes. It was, ironically enough, a book we had been working on...'1000 questions to ask before you get married.' Suffice it to say we didn't make it through the book. Chapter 2, maybe 3.

But on the book a post-it note telling me he missed me and was thinking of me. And of course, a Mounds Bar. (like a Bounty bar only with dark chocolate).

Anywho, so I was feeling kinda bad about what I had just said about hating him and all, but wasn't feeling bad enough to take the post down. For all I know TamponGirl was there beside him as he wrote that post-it note.
She's a dancer; like I used to be. She has blonde hair; like mine used to be. She's thin; like I used to be when I was 11. Soooooo basically, Ben's in love with my 11 year-old self.

I should go to bed.
For those of you who still come around, I applaud you. This isn't what I was going for. I thought I'd have more exciting adventures to talk to you about. I thought my life would be zooming by so quickly that a blog would be the only way to keep everyone I love up to date and informed.
Anyway, even if no one reads this in a few weeks time, that will be ok. I like my little outlet.

Oh and a special 'let's burn their house down' hello goes to my dear friend Patricia. NOT Patty. It's Patricia.