Dear Pointless

Earlier I received some news that lit-trally (said like the Rob Lowe character from Parks and Rec) made me shake my fist at the ceiling from frustration times. Whilst I was doing it, I thought of that part in Stranger Than Fiction, where Will Ferrell is yelling at the sky and the voice over says, "shouting at the heavens in futility." And he replies, "No, I'm not you stupid voice! I'm shouting at  you!" But really, it was futile. Just like my fist shaking. It didn't change the present or the past. In the long-run, the perceived injustice will not matter and maybe even one day I will become the sort of emotionally-evolved, self-possessed person who can honesty say they do not care.

This was not that day. It still isn't. I would still be shaking my fist except that I am too tired to do so.

Sometimes all you are left with is a great line from a movie.

me

Dear Legs

Some summers ago, I was walking in downtown Madison. I was bare-legged, in a knee-length skirt and some wedge heels. I passed a woman as I headed to a building on the south end of campus. The woman was a bit older than me, but sped up her pace until she matched mine. She looked at me and said:

"I want to tell you that you have nice legs. And you should enjoy them, because they won't last."

I awkwardly thanked her and kind of laughed to myself about what she'd said. But on days like today, when it is freakishly warm for Fall in October in Wisconsin, and I am bare-legged, in a knee-length skirt and some heels, I think of that unsolicited advice from that random citizen, and I work the legs.

And I enjoy it.

me