This is not cohesive

I introduced some friends of mine to Rosati's Frozen Custard yesterday.

We were supposed to meet there at two o' clock. I left early because I had some errands to run--gas station, library. I ended up arriving there about ten minutes early.

As soon as I pulled in I saw two friends of mine in the rearview mirror--they were just leaving with their bowls full of birthday cake custard. He was wearing his Mets jacket which he always wears in this kind of weather but now he's got a reason to wear it with pride (even though now he spends a lot of time making sure that I remember how long he's been wearing it--he's definitely not a sheep.) I got out of my car and had a nice chat with them, a chat that was slightly interrupted by some more folks I know pulling into the driveway and saying hello.

Eventually they all left and I retired to my car to wait, as my friends were running a little bit behind. (I am generally obsessive about being a few minutes early for things though so it's not their fault.) I was leaning against the back bumper of my car when I felt a strong sense of belonging come over me. My feet are planted, my friends are here, my favorite custard flavor arrives like clockwork every summer. The girls behind the counter know me.

The only thing different is the price of the custard--it's up 30 cents. I don't know how I feel about that. I actually felt hardcore walking up to the counter with $1.60, all ready to pay, and then I totally got inflation'd. No matter. It's still delicious.

Later in the day I went to my favorite consignment shop and they remembered me there as well. It feels good to make an impression on people, even if that impression is "Why does this girl keep coming here every freakin' week? Is she honestly this pathetic?"

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There's something about Chinese food. I see it, I smell it, it's mentioned, and I need it. I get insatiable cravings that won't be ignored. So last night when I was at the Giant Eagle and I passed a stack of cans of water chestnuts, the free-association gnomes that live in my head started screaming "Chinese! Chinese!" in a frighteningly shrill falsetto.

I drove to South China Wok first but SCW is expensive and I decided that I didn't necessarily need their white garlic sauce. So I went a few extra miles to Mom's Wok where the lo mein is $3.25 instead of $5.75. Actually, I opted for sauteed vegetables and a veggie spring roll for a grand total of $4.50. Take that, sucka! I went home, poured the contents onto a plate, dipped my fortune cookie in vanilla ice cream, and seeped some fresh Japanese Cherry tea.

I don't know why I feel the need to write about this actually. Last night it seemed more important. There was this formula that I considered:

1) House to myself
2) Nobody calling me back
3) Listening to Elliott Smith in the rain
4) Reading Dave Eggers whilst waiting for my Chinese
5) Entertaining the idea of being alone for the rest of the night eating Chinese food on the floor by myself like they do in the movies.

But then my friend came over to watch the new episode of Degrassi and anything that I could have written that would have any sort of merit just sort of took a holiday.

I think I just wanted to post in here again so I don't forget about it.